What can I say? The creative juices, they were a’flowin! So depending on whether you like verse or story or naught, read either or neither, with many thanks to our Friday Fictioneer hostess, Rochelle, who has kept us as a band of brothers and sisters in service to the muse the outgoing year through. Happy New Year and blessings to all! ❤️
Written for Rochelle's Friday Fictioneers Genre: Dystopic Fiction and Poetry Word count: 100 words PHOTO PROMPT © Na’ama Yehuda Click on the frog and join the party!
The Dais of Gadolfo
When Ella awoke, she found herself lying full-length staring upwards at a fleecy caravan of clouds.
How had she gotten here?
“You have offended the Great Ones,” a voice intoned from the tower above her.
“Citibank. Chase. Goldman Sachs. Amazon. Facebook. Twitter. Google. Netflix. Must I go on?”
“No. Please. I’ll reopen my accounts!”
She attempted to rise but found herself tied to stakes on a stone table.
The Dais of Gadolfo!
The Great Ones were making an example of her like the others for the world to see.
Above her, Gadolfo, a surgically-armed camera drone, slowly descended.
Out of the Curse, a Promise
The old year’s streaking past us
Her tattered skirts raised high
There’s a trail of desolation
She’s in a hurry to get by.
Shops closed never to reopen
Hosts of unsavory creatures
Circle over what’s bespoiled.
You can’t blame it all on Covid
But the contagion in human hearts
Stirring greed, cowardice, hatred
Like a cesspool of primeval rot.
This year’s humbling lesson
Shows how little we’ve progressed
The world still needs a Savior
And the heart his cleansing blood.
Looking up at clouds unfettered
High above Babel’s towers
A glimpse of lovingkindness
A promise of healing showers.