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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6 thoughts on “50 Word Story 17”

  1. And I couldn’t help it. Here’s my fifty word story…

    ***

    The Tin Man had a profound problem. He had a frozen joint, but the store was all out of his usual LFB-oil. He shuffled up and down the aisle. There were so many to choose from: Olive oil, motor oil, Grecian herb oil, castor oil…

    Which to choose?

    Liked by 1 person

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