Today on Drabble Wednesday I bring tales of broken bits and shattered things…
A Splinter of Time
The cracks decorated the clock face like a fractured spider web, radiating outward across the glass. No familiar tick tock rhythm filled the room, and the clock’s hands stayed motionless. Its tall, ornate body stank of wood rot and rust, and a layer of dust shrouded its once lustrous sheen. The machinery that destroyed it was gone, winked out of existence, as was the man who annihilated the universe.
Yet, the clock survived. A fixed point in the nexus of infinity. It remained as the atoms of the universe disintegrated, coagulated, dissolved and reformed, as time itself shattered and unmoored.
Shards of glass littered the lawn. Other bits hung off the frame of the sliding door. Jagged pieces even scattered over the hardwood floor. He stared at them, trying not to see the rest, or the tinges of red on some of the glass.
“I didn’t mean to, it was an accident.” He whispered the words to an empty house. “Everything just got out of hand.”
Perhaps he meant what he said, perhaps he believed it. The gun in his hand suggested otherwise. As did the body of his wife, resting on the lawn in a bed of broken glass.
“I’m afraid.” The tiny whisper broke the night’s silence.
The old woman smiled at the child. “Shush now, little one. The darkness holds terrors, but you must be strong. You've your mirror, yes? You remember what to do?”
The girl nodded. “Show the Dark-Beasts their reflection. Trap them in the mirror.” She sighed. “Like they were trapped before Mama broke the Otherworld looking glass.”
“Yes. But you will fix her wickedness. You will mend the damage and put right the world.”
The child nodded and closed her eyes. “We just have to reach the temple before the Dark-Beasts find us.”
© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved