Photo credit: Ales Krivec via Upslash (modified)
They stormed into the temple, the holy ones and half the village too, chanting prayers, clanging bells, wielding an army of torches against the darkness deep inside.
All night long the winds howled in fury, then today, an indifferent sun rose on silence: utter, dead, silence.
We weep, to think of all our leaders and loved ones perished — or worse, still alive, and counting on us for rescue.
Written for this week’s Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for hosting and for finding this great photo!