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.”

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50 Word Story #16

I used to be the reason for his happiness, Donatella thought. She looked down at her feet. Joey lay there, passed out on the floor, beer can still in hand, cradling it to his chest like a long lost lover. Donatella shook her head, bit back tears, and shot him.