• the_novel_idealist

13th August 2021 - 15 Minute Fiction Friday



Voices echo, cruel odes of old; through desolate plains, their tales remain untold.


Creaking, yet no breeze; disturbance yet at ease; in silence it calls out, that stone ruin of disease.


On long-dead ground, once a stone cauldron of decay; in piles, in droves, those poor souls did once lay.


Its splendorous appeal in the dying of the light is, if townsfolk are believed, deceiving; its foul wrench to the below, they say all it is achieving.


A hero to they turned, for hell those ghouls be returned.


These skills I cannot coach. It must be me. Deep breath; approach.


***


Find more 15 Minute Fiction stories, or get involved yourself by following the hashtag #15minutefictionfriday !