Isaac looked down at his sleeping daughter, his fingers stroking gently at the edge of her crib. A shard of moonlight bathed the child and, in the quiet serenity of the nursery, Isaac couldn’t imagine any sight more beautiful.
“I,…” He swallowed the words down. He knew she couldn’t hear him but the pain was too raw. “One day you’ll understand”
“You must wake her.”
His wife was rushing, their suitcases clutched tight in her hands.
“Isaac! We don’t have time!”
Angry shouts and breaking glass split the air. Isaac’s daughter smiled, dreaming.
“Give me this one moment,… please.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Jilbert Ebrahimi via Unsplash.
Though it seems we already have.
Tomorrow brings my 100th story! What will it be? Visit tomorrow morning to find out!
I saw such worlds that day. Skies of burnt orange and mountains of glass: rings of glittering crystal stretching from horizon to horizon. Seas made of joy lapped at sands of pain and loss: footprints of creatures unknown to me slowly sinking to nothing. All of this captured in the dark of my master’s room, shining from the sphere I held in my palm.
A footstep on a stair shook my rapture. A presence behind me chilled my spine.
The jewel shattered when he struck me down.
Now, in my blindness, those worlds live only in my dreams.
(c) Tim Austin 2016
If you want to suggest a word, pop something in the comments or tweet the word using the hashtag #onewordonestory.
See you tomorrow for “Termite”.