Her smooth skin is an illusion:
Inside, she’s tough like leather.
I don’t mean this cynically.
She’s seen catastrophe:
Yet, she persists.
Carrying a torch with a hopeful flame
That never dies out.
I don’t understand this.
She studies genocide,
Yet, she tells me everything
Will be okay.
In the previous installment, Azibo has another unexpected outburst of rage – except this time, the consequences are fatal. He kills Horace, his Collective contact, after the man ridicules his deeply held beliefs. Azibo shoots a message to Unity, who he hasn’t spoken to a while, and cries out for help.
How will Azibo get out of this jam? Is there any hope left for him? Let’s jump to Part 15 to find out.
My memories, they are fading
Pictures of old days are rusting
Memories used to be cascading
Now, they are just crusting
Maybe I’m just getting older
And things I’m starting to forget
Old traumas no longer smolder
For my sins, I did repent
Here’s a piece of fantasy flash fiction about an enchanted door and a magical key. It’s about 570 words and has an estimated reading time of 2 minutes. Let me know what you think!
I walked on a cold, misty night
Reflecting on my life thus far
I have given my life to Christ
Made wishes upon shooting stars
When released from behind bars
You could say I was born again
I’m better, but still have the scars
From a life devoted to sin
His whole existence, called into question.
The hand and the shadow. As the sun sets, light fades through the window. The angular shadows beckon me closer. I reach out with my finger, looking to meet my Shadow Self on the wall. Seeking to integrate those parts of myself I deny and push down. What happens when I touch the Shadow Self?
Hand seeks the shadow
Shadow reaches to the hand
My two selves’ touch
Here’s a piece of dark fantasy flash fiction about the ultimate sacrifice. It’s about 650 words and has an estimated reading time of 2 and a half minutes. Let me know what you think!
Washing in the river. Washing myself clean. Clean of the dirt and grime of a society gone mad. This is the way of my ancestors, to wash in the river away from the frenzies of the city. The water is cool, and my blood runs ice-cold when I step inside. I feel the purity of the saints.
River cleanses me
Of evil impurities
In the previous installment, Azibo attends Catholic mass and speaks to a priest afterwards. He’s amazed by the gentle priest, who has a nonchalant attitude about Portia and the religious war going on. As he’s leaving the church, the self-doubts creep in again about the suicide mission.
Let’s jump to Part 14, where Azibo meets up with Horace, his Collective contact, and something happens that irrevocably changes Azibo’s troubled life.