They spread themselves in a circle, everyone silent. The field was cast in the last beryl light of the day and they all held the forms in their trembling hands. The final contracts signed and agreed upon. Tonight it would happen. It had taken years of planning. They cast the papers into the fire which burnt into orange curlings which whispered away in dying sparks into the cold night.
Each man turned in their silence towards their chosen directions and would never see each other again. It would be in the news tomorrow.
About the Creator
Kevin Rolly
Artist working in Los Angeles who creates images from photos, oil paint and gunpowder.
He is writing a novel about the suicide of his brother.
http://www.kevissimo.com/
FB: https://www.facebook.com/Kevissimo/
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More stories from Kevin Rolly and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Mother's Day
She held her son in her lap like the day he was born. Golden haired and blue eyed. The child of promise who heralded the new beginning for her, for her husband. So many years lost to sadness until he arrived in trilling sunrise joy. Today was Mother’s Day.
By Kevin Rolly3 years ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Oooh, another intriguing one. Well done, again.
Great story❤️❗