I remember how we used to be, beings of light and energy, moving through realms of man, spirits in the cosmos, eternally enlightened. And now look what we have become. Pale wanderers helplessly seeking what we lost, stumbling blind, third eye closed, not even blinking, waiting for us to awaken.
Monthly Archives: August 2019
50 Word Story 17
Under skies the color of amber, the priest walked across the ruined landscape. “And lo, behold man, sons of God,” he mumbled to himself. “Laid low in his wickedness he wrought destruction in my name.” His feet kicked up blackened sand as he walked. “Behold his life, ashes and dust.”
Paul Writes 