Mastodawn

Ruthanne Jan 24, 2023

“When the Event happened, three hundred years ago - ”

“The Flare?”

“Those here call it the Event,” he says, and frowns. A tiny frown, the tiniest re-angling of his lips, but I feel the weight of it. “It lessens the horror for them. Truly, I do not find ‘Flare’ shocking enough, but ‘Event’ is hardly better. I personally would have preferred something along the lines of ‘Catastrophe,’ but the nomenclature has stuck.”

I agree. *Catastrophe* would be far better. #amwriting #solomonschoice #wip

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Ruthanne

“There was no hope for you,” he says softly. “No human would survive beyond that generation. It was…” He stops, closes his eyes, and something passes over his face.

Breeze moves through the garden, whispering, carrying things it has no right to do, and I feel, I *feel*, that he wept bitterly for us, and watched in helpless horror that no god-like being should ever know.

I can’t know that. How can I know that? Is it a trick? How can I *know* that?

#amwriting #solomonschoice #wip