poeticpunk

It doesn't get any better than a chilly natural breeze, the groaning of the sky in the aftermath of flashes of brilliance illuminating the walls of the living room. The branches ache with each breath and then there is silence. It's like as if all of time stops, awaiting the arrival of something mysterious and sinister, something that will descend from the skies with a clap of thunder and a bolt of light white and blue. I revel in such.. simplicity. There is nothing more to life than the anticipation of rain past midnight. Oh how i feel most alive.

She stands on the outskirts of the forest, on a fairly rounded cliff that overlooks more forest. The trees are of no concern. The arrow-straight dirt road leading up to the mountain is empty, dimly lit by the unusually bright moon. She has her eyes fixed on the oddly-shaped city that hugs the mountain. It is essentially a massive road blasted onto the side of the mountain and houses after houses are erected upon either side. The city ends where the road ends which is about one-quarter the way up. Uneven dwellings littered the sides of this road that serves as both a trade route and an even ground up and into the heart of the mountain. None of this matters to her though, she squints as if she can see people moving around in their homes.

Mothers have kissed their children good night and lay in bed with their husbands. The animals are asleep, dreaming of a place where they no longer serve humans. A dog's hind legs kick about as it lays in slumber, chasing an imaginary fiend in its sleep. Then it disappears in a cloud of dust and fire. Small bursts go off in random locations all over the city, hit by burning rocks that fall from above. The clouds churn, twisting and boiling as more balls of fire pierce the atmosphere and rain down on the dreamers. The sky burns with the intensity of a million campfires, the clouds themselves begin to glow red hot. Then it all stops. Bewildered and somewhat mesmerized by the power of nature, people stare up at the gods from under dinner tables, sheds, barns and anything that would've put off death by another second. They begin to put out the flames. Fathers gather for orders while the women herd up the children, shepherds with their terrified sheep. She can see them now, all out in the open like grains of sand falling down the side of a hill. She hears the flames billowing in the wind and the injured wailing, the dead simmering. She tucks her hair back behind her right ear. Her left hand is charred. She goes again.

A chasm opens up in the night sky and the clouds swirl, sucked inwards. Then like the crack of a blacksmith's hammer on a glowing sword, the sky parts above the city and an enormous ball of flame hurtles down. Small chunks of it fall away and comet down towards the earth, their flight also creating smaller breakaway balls. The meteor screams and spreads its wings, revealing a bird's head and demonic eyes that paralyzes everyone who looks into it. It tucks its wings in, streamlining itself and like a harpoon thrown from the heavens, collides into the side of the mountain and shakes the earth to its core. In that instant mothers no longer hold their precious children, fathers no longer feel their hands around their wives and the animals have their dreams fulfilled.

She watches as the creature claws its way out of the crater it created upon impact and breathes a jet of fire into flames that have already begun melting the mountain. Everything is brighter now, an orange light that flickers, a haunting mix with the moonlight. By tomorrow all the land surrounding the mountain will be black. The mountain itself will be black, dripping with black ink that will forever stain the earth. She raises her good hand, her right hand.

Pitter patter. The flames begin to scream.