Turning Out the Lights
The wind through her wings hushed as she rose into the darkness she had created, and silence fell upon the world below. Heavy with grief, she collected the last few rays of its nearly spent star, knowing that life had come too late to a system perched at death’s door.
I can’t take full credit for this fifty-word story. Most of the first sentence came as a prompt from my dear friend, Laura. She supplied the words, “The wind through her wings hushed as she rose into the darkness she had created.” Thank you, Laura, for this evocative image.
I wonder about the angelic protagonist of this story. How did she come to preside over the deaths of stars and the worlds they shine down upon? Why does she collect their light? Are they seeds for new stars that might one day shine down on worlds filled with life? I’d love to hear your thoughts and conjectures on this.
Nice Teamwork, ladies. Perhaps she's taking the leftover light to a system that can thrive. How had the life come so late? Why does she feel grief? This evokes a 'too late' sadness in me and I want her to rescue that life!
Beautiful story. And the feeling you've captured is the feeling that filled me when the words came. ✨️ 💖