Today on Drabble Wednesday, join me on an exploration of things broken, shattered, and abandoned...
Forgotten, But Not Gone
There is a room, at the top of an abandoned castle, the former pinnacle of the stronghold’s eastern tower. Years ago, it
was a retreat, a sanctuary, a place of perfect magic.
Now the room’s interior is dusty, cold, and empty, with cobwebs clinging in the corners. The frame of a mirror hangs
crooked on the far wall, shards of shattered glass still suspended on the casing. The mirror affirms an ending... to a story not told, but written in blood. Blood that echoes still.
For if you listen closely, a shadowed voice yet whispers, “Mirror, mirror on the wall...”
~*~
Glitch
“I do not understand the directive. Please repeat the directive.”
The mechanical voice broke the silence of the room, followed by the faint whir of motorized parts as the android straightened
to her full height. She touched her broken face plate. She looked down. Pieces of polymer porcelain littered the floor. She stared at her hands. They were scratched and stained.
“I do not understand the directive. Please repeat the directive.”
Her body twitched. Her hands squeezed at open air.
“I do not understand the directive. Please repeat the directive.”
But the dead human in the chair didn’t answer her.
~*~
Veracity
In the land of Ayrli, its people tell an ancient story of the Red Wasteland, of how its desert sands are littered with the bones of the Winged Gods. Of how these deities descended from the skies to annihilate the Kingdom of Ayrli, but only reaped destruction from the armies of the realm.
It is strange how time warps the truth.
Ayrli has forgotten they started the war, they’ve forgotten their betrayals, their broken promises. And worst of all, they’ve
forgotten the survivors.
But we have not forgotten.
The dead will be avenged.
Shattered wings will mend and rise again.
© A.
F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved
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