Thick acrid smoke weaves through the undying vows whispered between lovers clinging onto each other’s hands. Fear tears at mothers promising final lies of comfort as they draw their children close. Minds race with memories of triumphs, regrets, and lost loves. Believers and doubters alike beg for mercy from the God of their youth. Flight Attendants shout instructions in calm steady voices that belie the panic of their pounding hearts. Pilots desperately try to save the doomed vessel. A hundred stories never told plummet from the sky in their metal tomb. Together they slip into a watery grave of oblivion.
About the Creator
A. J. Schoenfeld
I only write about the real world. But if you look close enough, you'll see there's magic hiding in plain sight everywhere.
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Norma's Clouds
Every night at midnight the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. No one else ever seemed to notice them, but they always mesmerized Norma. She would stare out the window at night and watch them in the pale light of the moon as they flitted around twisting into beautiful shapes reminiscent of powerful dragons, ships of exploration, majestic castles, graceful ballerinas, and a thousand other things. She imagined herself floating among the wispy formations flying on the back of a fire breathing beast, perched in the crow’s nest of a creaky wooden vessel, gazing out from the window of the tallest tower, spinning and leaping on her tippy toes, or embarking on many other adventures. She would whisper her gratitude to the clouds at night, grateful for the momentary escape from reality before drifting off to sleep where the purple clouds wrapped her in their comforting embrace and pulled her deeper into her imagination until morning.
By A. J. Schoenfeldabout a year ago in Fiction
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