Death in the Mist
A loud pop disturbed the quiet of the valley. The horses flew, scattering to the far corner of the meadow.
A loud pop disturbed the quiet of the valley. The horses flew, scattering to the far corner of the meadow.
They could smell it. Their nostrils flared against the acrid stench.
Death in the mist.
A man stepped out of the swirling mist. It clung heavily to him, becoming a part of him. He wore it like
a cloak as he moved soundlessly across the meadow. A rifle, spent, dragged forlorn behind him.
The man stopped and looked out across the meadow toward the home he once shared with his wife –
and slowly faded along with the mist.
Dear Mahjira,
ReplyDeleteI'll start by telling you that Blogger never lets me sign in as anyone other than anonymous. Irritating, but don't let it throw you. (This is Doug over at Ironwoodwind:)
Your story was beautifully rendered and sad. It captured the last moments on earth of someone obviously in pain and crossing over. Melded with the picture perfectly.
Welcome aboard. You write well. Keep it up.
Aloha,
Doug
I like how you show what's happening on a broader scale first then zoom in on what's really going on. I though that, and the imagery, was done nicely. :)
ReplyDelete