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.”
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.
Looking at the beautiful asian girl sitting across from me, I took a sip of my coffee. I thought to myself even if I didn’t believe in magic, magic would believe in me. “Harry,” Cho said, “I wish it were me you were marrying instead of Ginny.” I kissed her.
I was a man of tweny-five when I fell in love with the middle school teacher. To many that wouldn’t seem a problem, but the fact I’d been in her class twelve years previously complicated things. To transition from corrected papers to tangled sheets was no mere fantasy, but scandal.
“One day you’re going to love ACDC.”
“Like hell,” she says.
I crank the stereo. ‘Back In Black’ blares out.
“I hate that singer.”
I grin. “He repaired cars before he joined the band.”
“Sounds like he drank the motor oil.”
“Of course,” she says with a wink.
50 Word Story #12
The sun rises and casts its bright gaze across the molten landscape. The fires of the battle before still burn, fallen bodies drying out in the heat and drawing scavengers to the smoking field. Barren from the war, nothing grows here and no one moves. Everything is dead except memory.
Create a scene/story in exactly 50 words
50 Words #11
The music is near forgotten, the song a whisper on lips that never dared to speak the secret, save only in dreams behind teenage walls and pinup lovers with eternal voices long dead. I silently lament these lost days. what was the point of growing up, if I’m still alone?