We watched the eclipse and the darkness that crept over the land.
No one expected that the darkness would remain.
We waited and watched in disbelief.
They emerged from the muck, the bowels of dusty towns, and neighbors’ dens, emboldened by the shadows and the promise of a new order.
Alison witnessed the solar eclipse, and wondered what would happen if the darkness stayed. Then she wondered whether the darkness has already prevailed.
He pointed the camera at her and asked, “Grandma, how does it feel to be a great grandmother?”
She looked up from the baby they had named for her late husband, her eyes wet.
“Everything the Nazis took from me… I got it all back.” Her voice was triumphant: “Everything.”
You can read more of Lianna Williamson’s writing on her writing blog.
Because I am an angel, you said you believed in them, and so I believed in you.
Yet here at the door of death who should come for you but Him.
The light of your love for me outshone the darkness in your soul.
And for that we are doomed.
Editor’s Note: This story grows on me a little more each time I read it, as I start to tease out more meaning from each sentence. At first it was an enigma, and now I find it appealingly haunting. I recommend coming back for a repeated read later, so you have time to explore and digest it.
Tammy’s poem “Twas the Night Before Blood Moon” will be published in Pill Hill Press’s Leap Year Edition of Daily Flash 2012: 366 Days of Flash Fiction, and she is a proud mother whose son is the joy and light of her life.
It was a dark and stormy night.
The meteorologists were all very confused. They had anticipated darkness (because the first lesson of Meteorology 100 is that it’s always dark at night, which tended to confuse the Alaskans), but most of them had only predicted light showers.
Actually, none of them cared.