"The Lord shall smite you for this!" said the man on the pyre.
"Ha!" The executioner chuckled, almost on the verge of laughing, "quit the fantasy, there is no god!"
He tried to counter the man under the hood of death. "Alas, when I die--"
"When you die, you're just dead," he said calmly with deep understanding. "The fairy tale that's heaven only there to help your guilty arse falling asleep at night." He stepped onto the podium, but the bishop began preaching to the miscreant. 10
"We all live amongst doubts, my children" said the hopeless wonderer. "I must admit, there are times when I question the truth of the holy words, whether I am teaching lies." He dramatically spun around to face the crowd, "but in matters such this, we all need naught, but to remember: when you sin, even a pagan may carry out God's will!" He turned to the executioner and said grimly: "Do it."
The hooded man took a torch and lit up the pyre. The man, whose only sin was attempting to save his wife when she was accused of witchcraft, yelled as the fire ate through his living flesh.
Writing began at 08 nov 2021 and was put on hold for the better part of 2022 until publishing.
Throughout my years as a writer, I found myself unable to write on command. Every time I am faced with restrictions, deadlines or the possibility of working with unlike-minded individuals, whether it is a short story, a song or as simple as a letter, my mind seems to freeze and to actively deter inspiration, preventing ideas to form and prosper in what otherwise would be the perfect habitat for them...
I'm lost in the light
I'm lusting the void
People around me
Are nothing, but noise
I am surrounded
There's nowhere to go
The lack of the bright
Is where I feel home
Written at 17 August 2021
"No!" The angry student exclaimed, "I told you already! This is it! I refuse to change any of it!" He threw his papers in the air and stormed out of the lecture hall.
"What was that about?" asked the curious bystander, who helped Mark to pick up the angry student's essay.
"Just another art student refusing criticism," he said as he looked at his empty wrist, "do you know what time is it?"
"It's 11:05," she revealed with morbid casualty.
Written for 24 hour flash story writing competition, given theme was Ruthless Ambition.
This was a writing practice in preparation for a 300 word flash story writing competition. 2/2 people who read it seemed to like it, so now it's here.
Randomly chosen theme was Justice.