The world was grey and powdery, and the ash smeared on her hands as
she emerged from the abandoned restaurant she'd been living in. All of
the structures were standing... but there were no people.
Her first thought was that the people must have been incinerated, but
no. Unless what had done this was strong enough not only to sear flesh
from bone, but consume the bone utterly.
She was almost eighteen. She was wearing clothes. Clearly she'd come
She spun, gasping. The man held his hands up to soothe her. "Who
"Michael. I was with you in the restaurant."
"I can't... why can't I remember?"
"You don't have to."
"Listen - it's okay. You're not supposed to. The important thing is...
what will you do?"
She looked around. Ash falling from the sky. Nothing and no one. She
had a sinking feeling. "Michael... what did I do?"
"You acted in accordance with your nature," he said softly.
"What did I - what am I?"
"You'll know." he said. "The only question that matters is this: what
will you do?"
She looked up at the grey sky. "Fly," she whispered.
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I am probably not making any sense at all anymore. Still, I will persevere.
I don't think there's any blood left in my caffeine system.
Starting to have a difficult time picking prompts. I love "Marked", but that wants to be something longer.
My eyes are dry.
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