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| Posted by: |  Caleb_Monroe |
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| Date: | November 16th, 2007 6:37 PM | ||
| Header: | Flash Fiction Fridays: The Mountain Rises | ||
| Bulletin: | THE MOUNTAIN RISES The mountain shook, rolled and stood up. The people whose village rested at his feet had hoped to never see him, but he was here now. Awake. They prayed he would have strength. His face shone like the sun, his limbs were the green of forests and his armor was the blue of mountains in the far distance. His cloak was the gray of granite and morning dreams. As he crossed the land, the animals were filled with strange powers and the harvest suddenly came ready. There was no sleep where he passed, but neither was their fatigue. Thousands of birds filled the air in his wake, their constantly shifting formations announcing things that could never be expressed in word or thought. He paused at the coast and drew his sword. As he did, every unborn child in the land jumped in the womb. Its blade had been forged outside of time, where there was no death, and was so real and so alive that it could not be looked upon with mortal eye. Continue reading here >> |
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