Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. On Eagle Wings by Sophie Matthews (scary books to read .TXT) 📖
- Author: Sophie Matthews
Book online «On Eagle Wings by Sophie Matthews (scary books to read .TXT) 📖». Author Sophie Matthews
The sun scorches the sky. Waves slither in the oven beneath the red torch. A black cord lifts its head valiantly. An angry hiss. The Sun God isn’t moved. Rocky columns rise towards the sky. Winged dots give away their peak. White stones hide in the shadow of the giants. A marble trembles. It shatters. A black tiny clew. A faint chirp. The nest is up. He is down.
***
Maiak was tired, but happy. He had cleaned stables the whole day. When he was about to leave, the mistress brought him a freshly baked bread. The gift made him happy. His brothers and sisters had never had such a treat.
A neigh stopped his daydreaming. He first thought a horse had escaped. His eyes looked for the animal. It wasn’t a horse. There were thousands. A red flag with a black circle in the middle rose in the sunset. The sound of thundering hoofs quickly got closer.
Maiak ran towards his home. The riders were already behind him. He looked back. An arm clothed in black stabbed him. The man pulled out a red sword. “My blood?” wondered Maiak. He fell, dropped the bread. He watched frozen as the bread got crushed under the horses’ feet. The pain in his chest got sharp. The shirt and the black earth were covered in a red, warm liquid.
The wall of dust came down. Red flames in the distance. The wind carried hopeless cries. His eyes got blurry. “I wish I could have given them the bread.” thought Maiak. He looked up to the sky. Red.
Text: nikyangelg
Images: Ivonne Vetjens(cover)
Editing: nikyangelg
Publication Date: 09-21-2012
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