Frosty, torrential rain soaked his dying form. A twenty-two caliber round to the chest was the chosen instrument of his appointed fate. Heaven had spoken.

Lightning flashed and revealed titanic wings above Racha-el’s shoulders. She gently cradled his head in her lap, whispering:

“I loved you before you were born.”

Matt On Accident is a blogger who writes limericks and Fifty-Word Stories for fun. They may be found at mattonaccident.com.