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In my arms she was as light as a feather on the scales of Osiris. And even as I wanted to cling to this new goddess I knew, to my sadness, that I must feel as heavy as pig iron to her. My tired, evil old soul would not survive the test of the Feather of Maat.
When I broke the kiss she gazed up at me still with that same curious expression. "That was good, too."
More incorruptible innocence? Feeling as if the whole of creation was suddenly upon my back and shoulders I fled the bar, the bit of humanity I had sought out to have a night of pleasure in, no longer a haven. I fled onto the dark city streets; I fled into the smoke, and the filth and the putrid detritus of the human animal. I wanted to rage. I wanted to scream at the unfairness of the world.
I wanted to tear the world apart!
And I could do it. I still had it in me. There were still enough sad fools clinging to the old ways to give me the power to end all of this, but I knew. I knew that no matter how much I took into my heart in the form of the dragon I was given to play, no matter how many horrors, plagues, terrors, and famines I unleashed, fulfilling my prophesied fate, nothing I did would make the young goddess go away.
Or keep me from being forgotten in time.
When I felt her hand upon my back, those fingernails with the circuit board patterns against my skin, I knew it was useless. And when I turned to look into those silver eyes, I had to weep at the virtuous beauty of her ... and pined my loss. Technology, so sweet and simple a goddess, had won before I even knew there was going to be a battle. Already her followers outnumbered the Heavenly hosts and the minions of Hell together. Yes, I pined my loss–but in truth–
"How lovely."
(I would like to thank Tx Tall Tales for his work editing this story and for his suggestions. Thanks TTT. As always any mistakes are all on me.)
- COMMENTS
Anonymousover 1 year agoIMHO not perfect, but near as dammit!
Uncomfortable & dark, but oh so easy to read & follow.
Many thanks for your effort. 5/5
Jackspeed2uover 6 years agoJees... ease up on those adjectives.
If you set the tone of the bar in general you wouldn’t need 20 adjectives for every word of plot. It makes the story stilted to read. Also if you spend so much time describing the bar stool is there a reason to it? Does that bar stool come alive and save the world and have 50 children? If not then why does it get the royal treatment?
Have you ever heard of RPL ? That’s recognition of prior learning. That means that it’s a bar and almost all people over 18 in Australia and 21 in USA have at least a working knowledge of a bar. So if you said a dive bar then it’s dark, worn, old, dirty, big titted bar staf etc. While a yuppie bar is bright, clean, well maintained, modern music, expensive drinks and big titted bar staff.
A few words to set the tone, then forget the stool unless it has more to do with the story than just being a stool and getting sat on. If some one sits at the bar they wouldn’t use a chair, too low, they wouldn’t use a crate, low and splinters, the floor’s too sticky and low....... oh I know, a stool. Dive bar probably bolted to the floor, yuppie bar, probably not.
Unreadable. I spent more time on this comment than the first two paragraphs before I quit.
Crusader235over 7 years agoGuess what this reader will be thinking of next time he hears that song.
5 Stars, one of the best.
Tw0Cr0wsover 7 years agoThere are many worse possible songs that could have come on which you could have then been stuck writing a story about.
You did this one justice.
