The Steeple

This 100-word exercise was inspired by the painting below:

"dark spire" © I-NetGraFX

Perched high, drops of mercury fell upon her glistening back. All of life had come to a standstill, all of life was crowded onto a single point.

One claw teetered over the edge, right wing held out for some balance. She saw him, circling mid-air, silvery-black in the distance.

The city was depending on them. Here they were, leaving.

Let's go, he cried out to her.

With a last look at the city they had spent the last 16 winters in, she took off into the starless, midnight amber sky.

Stay safe, she silently wished.

With them, Hope was gone.

~ © Jess C Scott

homepage: Jess C Scott

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