The Globe of Bones

Last night, I dreamt that the earth had died. It shrank by degrees, losing some animals first, then the trees, the bushes and shrubs. When the rivers dried up, the naked ground looked like the shrivelled skin of an emaciated old woman. In wain, I searched for something to feed her. When I turned round to tell her that I had failed, she was nothing more than a globe of bones, banging against each other. I woke up to the sound of a hailstorm and wondered, if, maybe, the earth had a bone to pick with us …

9 Gedanken zu „The Globe of Bones

  1. Excellent! I like that you have captured the transitioning dreamscape without losing the thread of the story. As the others have said, wonderful imagery – it really transports the reader.

  2. Excellent! This was sheer poetry, flowing beautifully and so hauntingly sad too. I loved the ‚bone to pick line‘.

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