Wednesday, 20 March 2013

Whirlpool of the World

Dark Planet by W B Sloan

Whirlpool of the World

“Shut the door!”
“... Damn, how predictable. At a way station, a nodal point on the journey between the ending of your earthly life and final eradication. You have a decision to make.”
“In a moment. Look outside.”
An idyllic rural landscape; painted perfection. No, not perfect. It moved; writhed sinuously, beginning to shift, twist and distort. It swirled, faster, vertiginous, a nightmare undreamed by Dali; the world dropped in a blender. My white knuckles clamped the rail. Fields flew away, swallowed by surrounding darkness. I began to slip.
The voice snapped me back.
“... visual representation...” I reeled from the window, gasping. “... in turmoil; out of balance. I intend to restore that balance. You’ll help me do that.”
“Or what?”
“I finish my job.”
“Job? Who are you?”
“Pass you into eternal oblivion. I’m Death, Mr Grey.” She smiled. “And I have a proposition for you.”

150 words

This story was written for Angela Goff's Visual Dare Flash Fiction challenge and is a follow on from my previous tales 'Grey's Elegy' and 'Out, Brief Candle' (in that order)

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