Going for a different tone than in my first two short stories.
~~~
Thunder rolled through the valley as the procession marched toward the clearing. In the lead, a small girl, held high for all to see, crying.
In the midst of the clearing was laid a sacrificial pier, reaching upward to the crackling heavens. A virgin sacrifice must be made, or so was thought. Silently, the mob gathered round. The girl, now struggling but in vain, is tied to the center stake.
A fire lit, burning, blazing. The monstrous deed was done.
Rain begins to pour down from the heavens. The people perceive it as a blessing, when the skies are really weeping.
No comments:
Post a Comment