Cast Out #WritePhoto

 

flame

 

Fingertips touching, never leaving, they dance.

Embers glowing, wind blowing, they move.

Hair whipping, voices crackling, they sing.

Fire curling, stars fading, they twirl.

Calling for the flames to grow…

Round the circle ringed with stones…

Towering bonfire casting shadows…shifting…

Faces alight, flickering rust and gold…features rearranging…

 

They are ancient. Forgotten. Lifeless.

They are born. Pulsing. Alive.

 

On the damp beach,

atop the cliff,

in the forest,

the desert,

the mountains,

marshes,

plains,

valleys…

 

They are everywhere and nowhere. They are here.

 

Fallen angels. Cast out.

They absorb this world. Theirs now.

Blessed innocence laced with fragmented memories.

They will destroy. It is in their blood. It is in their subconscious.

They are human.

 

 

 

My attempt for #writephoto, a weekly writing prompt for poetry/flash/short stories hosted by Sue Vincent

I’ve edited a previous flash, Home Fire, to change the meaning. Hope it works but, still, fun. Try out Sue’s prompt.

 

writephoto-logo

 

I Quit

She hadn’t planned to show herself.

His lungs were filling with water—she panicked, materializing and assuring him she would always protect him.

It was a mistake. He spent the next year performing stupid stunts.

~~~

“Check it out,” he shouted, jumping off the bridge. “I’ve got a guardian angel! I can’t die!”

His angel appeared, much clearer than she had the first time.

“You’re looking haggard,” he chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. His hand was wet. Glaring at her, he brought his fingers to his face. Blood. “What the hell?”

“I’m sorry,” she smiled. “Good luck.”

 

 

December 10 Prompt: Angels (Write a story that features an angel)
Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch