This story was written for Flash!Friday with the photo as prompt.
Fate’s Choice
She watched the battle play out in her mind’s eye; a reflection of the true events outside the dwelling she shared with her sisters. They, too, were busy weaving a myriad of similar threads into the tapestry. Already the threads of the future were gathering; the seemingly inevitable outcome of the battle and its aftermath. Her tears burned, streamed, dripped with every thread she severed. With every soldier that fell. She spotted him through the swirling veil of past-present-future. The one she had saved at birth by not cutting the thread. The one she had grown to love. This was to be his last battle; she saw it in her sisters’ eyes. She took his thread, and paused.
“There has been enough death today.”
The dark, uncut thread glimmered gold and spread, changing the pattern even as they worked it, flooding it with light. And, for the first time, she saw the beauty of mercy in her work.
No comments:
Post a Comment