“Do you know the worst thing about life?” He paused, giving a sideway glance with no sign of a smile.

“Death?” she inquired with eyes averted toward a dark tunnel, slowly emerging from the soil.

“No. Its living.”

Im relieved the chains that weighed me down have been removed. I walk through the landscape; trees, flowers and hear the bird call. No one is here. Even God has become a vapor. I feel empty but free.

January 2017

Art short fiction

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: