On Thursday, I was stuck. I had started several stories, and they weren’t going anywhere.
After pulling my hair in frustration for quite some time I went for a walk. Where I live there’s an old, spectacular Arab castle just up the hill, with a forest-like park in the hillside underneath. As I was walking up in the light from the streetlamps I heard two little owls calling each other. I stopped. Stood there, between trees and ancient ruins. There it was. Inspiration.
I walked home down the narrow roads…
He walked the narrow road up the hill. It was dark, but the moon was coming up on the other side of the valley. His feet were heavy, his eyesight blurry. She was gone. She had taken her belongings and left. No explanation. Not even a goodbye. Slowly he had realised she would not come back.
He could hear an owl …
Rewritten and republished. Originally published on fictionspawn.com December 13. 2016.
They could feel the cold draft from the door opening. With it came fear, running down the hall, hundreds of small animals shrinking in terror. Steps. Slowly down the path. A snort. Spit. He stopped. He was standing in front of her cage. The man. The man of death.
They were four in their cage now. Number twenty-three was lying dead in the corner. He had been for quite a while, he was starting to smell.
The sound of the metal lock. A door opening. She ran in circles, incapable of getting anywhere.
The door closed. It wasn’t her this time. It was number twenty-two, another one of her siblings. He was carried over the floor. The man stopped. Picked up the death stick. The little animal was fighting to get loose. No one had ever escaped.
The man held him up in the air…
Another rock fell from the roof. The tunnel was shaking.
-So the time has come, said Bargan.
-We have to get out of here! His grandson Bilk was looking up the tunnel.
-There is no out of here. The tunnels and the halls are the world. Where would you go?
-There has to be some place somewhere. There has to be!
-The tunnels further down have already fallen. We knew the end was coming, even before the war. We’ve won, but the prophecy we cannot defeat. The world will fall. The tunnels will be destroyed. It is inevitable.
Bilk went home to his tent. He refused to accept there was no way. Yes, they could not fight the Fall, but they…
Through the bushes he saw a worn little house, overgrown, almost covered by vegetation.
It was getting dark, soon it would be too dark to see. He could hear thunder. It was going to rain. He walked up the path towards the door, overgrown with bushes, spines and thistles. Rain started falling.
He entered the house. It was warm inside, and it smelled fresh, clean. It looked kept.
Hello? He tried, but there was no answer.
He started walking down the hallway. It seemed to go through the whole house, with doors on each side. He could hear the clock on the wall…