Today marks the twentieth anniversary of 9/11. I wasn’t even born when that happened, but I can imagine what it must have been like to see the towers crumble. To hear the screams of the dying. To be enveloped by that billowing cloud that flooded the streets of New York.
I don’t have a story about that. I’ve never really written historical fiction, as it tends to be one of my less favorite genres. But I know someone who does: Grace Johnson.
Check out that short story, y’all. You can get it for $0.99 until September 13th on Amazon, and for $1.99 on these sites. It’s so beautifully written, with such realistic events. I was brought to tears more than once, and it’s only 5K words long!
That said, take a moment to think about what happened. Pray, if you will, for America. Pray for terrorists. Pray for Afghanistan. ‘Cause, as Grace said, we will never forget.
The Prompt
*coughs* So I may or may not have forgotten to save the picture for this… *coughs again* Basically it was of a girl on a swing with her back to you. The swing is attached to a tree which grows on a small floating island in space. A large moon hangs in the top right corner. Yeah… I hope that works as a prompt.
The Story
Desire.
Long.
Yearn.
They were the only words I could think of to describe this indescribable swirling in my soul. Desire for aromas to caress my nostrils. Longing for tastes to delight my tongue. Yearning for sounds to free my ears.
I was trapped. Alone in a desolate land where the only thing I could see was the tree to which my swing was attached and the stars dancing around me in the light of the twin moons. I was stuck, doomed to this life of silence.
After all, everyone else had to breathe to live.
But my air was the pure light of the stars, my oxygen the slowly changing cycle of the moons. I had loved it at first – loved the distance from the sirens and screams of the city, loved not having to torture my lungs with the smoke-filled skies, loved the peace and solitude.
And then I became lonely. I would admire the view of millions upon billions of brilliant stars and wish I had someone there to warm me. I would send myself swinging high into space and then pause, wishing I had someone to push me. I would draw a masterful picture in the dirt and wish I had someone to show.
Life is lonely now.
What would I give for those sirens and screams, the polluted air and the interruptions, if only I could have the people back?
But it’s too late.
I am lost.
Doomed.
All because my wish came true.
That’s it for today! I’ve got a special post planned for Monday, so stay tuned.
Take courage, pursue God, and smile while you still have teeth! 😉
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