Friday Fictioneers – The Night

May 11, 2012 by littlewonder2 25 Comments

A giant flashlight shines through the black sky and dirty clouds. It was like a beacon of hope to those of us way down here, twiddling our thumbs, waiting for the world to listen to our pleas.

The flood is rising. Those of us still left alive might not be far away from death now. The trees stretching above us might be higher ground enough. But the pressure of the waters might also be enough to knock them off their roots.

I don’t want to be there when all those trees are there to help me drown. But I know I’m not the only one.

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From Madison Woods‘ blog.

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Inspiration has struck twice! Here’s my second piece:

Cars whizzed by in the city as the eclipse began. People pass in the streets, in coffee shops, museums, workplaces, back and forth as though it were just a normal day.

Gone in centuries are the days when humans would gather together in numbers just to watch a solar eclipse with their protective equipment.

Now there is nothing to look at; without the moon completely blotting out the sun, it’s just as though the clouds have passed over, with no majesty in it at all. The moon has just grown too distant, interest has gone stale.

Now the only ones who look are the children, pointing upwards in curiosity before their parents pull them along disapprovingly.