The silver roof across the road caught my eye, as always. It couldn't help that it reflected the sun too well. Even at night it reflected the moonlight that bathed the fields and forests.
This dawn, the reflection was different. The blessed light shifted, alive like the shadows that danced beneath trees. The previously perfect orb of burning gas warped, sending tendrils of Hell spiraling outward.
It was only supposed to be one flare. That's what the news said this morning, before the others got up, in a familiarly scratchy voice.
My bare eyes bored into the sun; a challenge. I poured every ounce of power - of authority - that this body's expression could muster. My knuckles cracked as I clenched my hands. Seven seconds later, the beast shivered and calmed, pulling back its tendrils of flame.
I started as of snapping out of a reverie and, without so much as a backwards glance, began my descent back down the rickety ladder leaning against the house.
YOU ARE READING
Twisted Dreams
詩歌A collection of short stories, poems, and half-written ramblings. ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 dream \ ˈdrēm \ 1 : a series of thoughts, visions, or feelings that happen during sleep ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 night·m...
