In today’s Drabble Wednesday, I delve under the surface of reality, to find the secrets…
Such a delicate thing. Its wings fluttered on the winds, their white-tipped, crimson pattern vivid against the sunlit afternoon. It danced against the clouds, before settling on a shaded branch of an oak tree.
There it waited, its insect antennae twitching.
Golden hair, and a sunshine smile, the woman passed beneath its tree. She laughed as it landed on silky skin. For a moment, it perched, wings outstretched. She gasped in awe.
It quivered. Minuscule fangs punctured skin, injecting poison into her bloodstream.
“Ow!” One breath, before she convulsed and died.
Such a delicate thing, such a deadly touch.
The Long Path
“Only a fool begins the long path. Only Death will end it.”
That is the saying among my people. If any remained alive they would call me a fool.
A thousand years I walked this road, past war, past famine, past all I loved. The summer rains have drenched me, the winter snows have chilled my bones.
Yet, I walked.
I was your name whispered on the wind, that shadow on the wall, the ghost in the graveyard. I have strode the path between worlds, and I am at its end.
I stand in the grove of night awaiting Death.
I am the last of my kind. Eons ago we swarmed the skies, the earth, the seas, and fed on the giants that lived here. Then the giants died, and we turned on each other. Only I survived, hibernating all these long years.
I am the last of my kind.
Or I was, until I met the human. This new breed that inherited our domain. Puny, but he served his purpose.
Now my eggs are buried deep under his decaying skin and tissues, feeding off his corpse. Soon they will hatch, and we will feast on more of his race.
© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved