The man emerged from the depths of the river and cast his first gaze upon the creator. The water in his lungs was slowly replaced with fresh, cool air. Instinctively, he swam towards the water’s edge as more beings breached the surface. Each face displayed an unguarded sense of wonder and he felt deep inside that he knew them all intimately. Their presence gave him strength. The creator stood still as the man approached.
“What is my purpose?” He asked.
The creator gently motioned towards the horizon of the vast, unending world.
“To find purpose.”
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More stories from Colton McClintock and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Grass and Concrete
A flock of turkeys shambled their way across Circle Boulevard; their collective song piercing the morning silence as the sun cut away the darkness. They patrolled each yard they passed on the hunt for worms that surfaced for air or flowers that persevered through the first chill of fall. Cars gradually exited their driveways and patiently waited for a clear path. By mid-morning, the birds began their retreat into the forest and the fox that had been watching slowly followed.
By Colton McClintockabout a year ago in Fiction
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