Monday, February 21, 2011

Story Three, Prologue

The dying flames clawed futilely upwards at the charred skeleton of the hall. Pools of ornate colored glass grayed with ash slowly cooled. Within the wreckage, the smog slowly drifted upwards to blot the sun. As it cleared, the smoldering remains of silken robes cast a hellish light over blackened bones. Talon-like hands were coated with the half-solid remains of champagne goblets, shining brilliantly in the fire glow.

Viewed from the north, the scene would be placed nearly artistically through a large picture window, somehow untouched by the horrific conflagration.

7 comments:

Elphaba said...

Do any of your Tuesday Tales not involve destruction?

Reogan said...

The second didn- never mind. This one isn't so much about destruction. You'll see.

Elphaba said...

I'll take your word for it.

Reogan said...

You'll see.

Xanthurian said...

Though it is a truly amazing piece of description.

Living said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Reogan said...

Many thankings are from me to be had by you.