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!
Tales from Eneana 
Seeing more mob culture these days, are we reverting to the past? Strong words that run deep here.
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I suppose whether you think of a group as an angry mob or a brave army depends on which side you’re on. Although maybe whatever is hidden in the darkness within their temple doesn’t care about such mortal distinctions. 😉 Thanks for reading!
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picking the cause i guess is more important – but what is in the temple – that i am too scared to even imagine!
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The narrator and the others standing outside wondering what happened to their friends are too scared to imagine too!
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Thought provoking.
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Glad you thought so — thanks for reading!
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I does look like a place with a secret, doesn’t it?
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Yes indeed! Leave it to me to think of a terrible, dangerous secret. Next time I’ll try to think of a sweet, romantic secret. 😉
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Dark secrets are more interesting 🙂
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That is so often true, isn’t it? 🙂
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Well written but so very sad…war *is* hell.
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Very sad, true. Thanks for reading — I’ll try to write something cheerier soon. 🙂
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No worries! You have to write what speaks to you 😉 It was moving all the same…
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