The Return

The sun scatters like an unfurled fan over the crest of the temple complex and a hundred voices cry out in adulation. The Blood Priest walks achingly slowly up the stone steps, dragging the terrified child behind her. This is to honour the Starving God, who deprived the Worldbeast a meal and so spared mankind. This is to remember the cycle of sacrifice- the boys bleeding on battlefields the mothers hitting disobedient children the slaves whipped to pieces in the baking sun the struggle the strife- that kept this temple standing for these thousand years. The Blood Priest was eerily confident as she dragged the squealing child up those steps, and as the young wretch looked out at the gathered thousands who had come for the morning service, they were struck by a profound horror. The horror was not in the mere reality of their fate, the cold steel flash, the hard puncture, the heart beating still before the failing eyes as its tossed into the flames. It was the horror at a culture doing merely what it did to maintain itself- and feeling no guilt at its self preservation.

Nanowrimo Two Sentences 4

I’m finally going to see my boyfriend again after all these years. Along the river not across the road.

Nanowrimo Two Sentences 3

The window sitting ajar. The bad thoughts coming back.

Nanowrimo Two Sentences 2

2 rings but three fingers. 2 people but three bodies.

Nanowrimo Two Sentences 1

She was so desperate to escape the date that she went to the toilet and climbed out the window. He thought she’d be impressed by his Penthouse apartment.