The Old Ways

Time stood still when the lights went out and nobody knew how long the darkness would last, or if the light would ever return. Nobody knew either why this had happened, although there were some who had their suspicions. 

The day had started with the gradual fading of the stars. The paling of the sky signalled the coming of dawn which flooded across the valley as the sun rose above the hill where they buried their dead. A bird flew into a shaft of morning sun and was momentarily transformed, bathed in a copper light that glowed like burning embers. 

The people welcomed the sunrise as they always had. Grateful that the light had returned after the darkness of night, arms were extended upwards and prayers of thanks were offered to the Goddess who commanded the earth, the sky and all of life.

But not everyone prayed with such reverence these days. There were those that had become lazy, sleeping longer on their beds of moss and bracken and taking the sun’s trajectory across the sky for granted. Offerings were not made as often as they were before and people took less notice of the stories that once had captivated them. The priest had warned them about their behaviour but no notice had been taken. 


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Alex Sandys
Aug 16 2020

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A brilliant take on the brief.

Rod Webb
Aug 16 2020