“Evening, my fellow earthlings,” I greeted nervously as I approached my tribe.
Clamorous responses were aimed at my late arrival.
Laced with bane, a brew bubbled underneath an outdoor hearth.
I tilted my head back as I took a swig of the hot liquid.
Pain scorched my throat followed by a deep unsettling feeling at the pit of my stomach.
Searching for an antidote, my body swayed and thumped onto the dirt ground as my soul
Eclipsed into the darkness of the night with no intention to ever return.
About the Creator
Haggar Ben
I love to dream and let my mind drift off into new worlds and characters.
With the use of this platform, I plan to practice the gift and artform of storytelling.
Keep reading
More stories from Haggar Ben and writers in Poets and other communities.
Spectating
I can't imagine dying like this, in a place like this; on a cold, dirty pavement with rush hour traffic screaming by and a crowd looking on while paramedics struggle to find space to move. Who could? Deep down we all think there should be a reason, a moment of clarity... or a family presence, at least. For this man, this boy, the rail thin woman lighting a cigarette in a faux fur jacket will have to do - she's been here since the start, her eyes tracking the movement of my shoulders as we fight to keep him on the right side of the line.
By S. A. Crawford5 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.