Friday, 5 December 2014

Sat Amongst The Pigeons

Sat Amongst The Pigeons

(inspired by Faber Academy QuickFic

It’s a Saturday. I have my daughter every other weekend. She’s three. I met her mum by the usual bench. I always bring a sliced loaf. Clued up pigeons heard the tiny crackle of bag and landed close to my girl.
One pigeon looked at me. I thought about shooing him.

And then it happens.

I knew it wasn’t just me because of the fear and chaos around me, the way that people clutched their heads to listen closer to the voice, to protect themselves from the sudden madness.

A voice, a voice like none heard yet in the sane world, spoke in all the heads on Earth.

I am the Creator.

I made you. I can unmake you. Abandon your churches. Destroy your banks. Your beliefs are confirmed, your rituals disappoint me. Put down your weapons. Feed each other. Abandon your wealth as you would your worries for the two are one. The next time I speak will be the last.

I heard the explosions, I saw the smoke rise from here and turned as one by one, churches and banks fell into dust. I felt coins burn through my pocket and melt into nothingness.

As I speak, I can hear sirens. The streets are filled with wondrous, upturned heads. Some are crying. 

I sit back down.

Pigeons peck at the crumbs by my daughter. She looks at me, smiling, holding a crumbless bag.

What do we do now she says?

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