On the first day
I extinguish the sun. It cries shooting stars that stain the blackness before they fade, flicker by flicker. It’s divine; the universe’s fireworks display.
On the second day
I watch humans stumble through darkness, lighting feeble candles. So, I send clouds to snuff them out. Collapsing the sky, white wisps drop into oceans, sponge-like, soaking up water until they sink.
On the third day
I raise the waters; full of clouds and sleet, angry with thunder and lightning. Nature suffocates. Trees drift unanchored, roots reaching, leaves drowning amidst the soupy mess of chaos.
On the fourth day
I throw cooled celestial bodies into the bubbling broth. Sun and Moon fall together, united after an eternity of yearning from opposite sides of the cosmos. They send tidal waves, washing away stubborn stars.
On the fifth day
I deal with the collateral damage. Outstretched wings and tarnished scales float aimlessly. Birds and fish, frozen in time, silent victims of humanity’s indifference.
On the sixth day
I stop the screams and prayers. Humans cower among cattle, clinging onto every cranny of the world they ruinedstill hopeful without reason. I crush them under the weight of it all.
On the seventh day
They rest. And so do I.
Until tomorrow. When I begin again.
We are delighted to nominate the following FlashFlood stories to the 2023 Pushcart Prize: ' The Doll House ' by Nathan Alling Long &...
CHICKEN +50 Buttermilk fried, the apogee of chicken, its chickeniest chickenness, rich gold with bite and crunch and tendern...
In case you missed any of the pieces we appeared during the 2023 FlashFlood, here's an index to everything. Happy Reading! ' They...
A shaft of sunlight fell across the worn herringbone floor, drawing his gaze upwards to the flawless blue sky beyond the row of windows, ...