The Words of a Dying Flame

PEACE AND SAFETY He broke away from the group, running madly across the jungle. Some chased after him, hurling spears in the darkness in a bid to slow him down. The whoosh of sharpened sticks in addition to the bloodthirsty cries of his comrades only pushed him more and more, until he was out of sight. “How could he?!” one demanded furiously, “isn’t he the one who rallied us together in the first place?” “Oh my God,” another said, “he’s actually going back!” “Leave him!” another addressed the crowd, “he’s a traitor now. He’s made his choice, and we must stick with ours. Let’s go!” With that, they followed him closely, being guided only by the warm, silver glow of the moon. The man rushed frantically until he got to the damaged fence. He had never stopped to marvel at the beauty of the Victorian-style home, brought to life by flickering orange lights that illuminated the inside, not to mention the delicate carvings on the lawn that seemed more realistic from where he wa

PRIMAL The hot afternoon sun gazed upon the ample grasslands, staring at the wildlife inhabitants so much that they had to linger around the watering holes, dipping themselves severally in an attempt to avoid it. They all knew too well that this meant the drought was just at the horizon, so many of them made attempts at finding themselves as much food as possible, even if it meant moving away. Yet, while the majority focused on their bellies, a group of zebras had a more ominous concern, one whose bones were still stained in blood, holding on to the skin that dangled precariously from them. “He was so young,” his mother said, tears flowing freely as the others consoled her. “If only he ran just a bit faster,” a member of the zeal added. “He couldn’t have outrun them,” his father spoke, trying hard to be strong for his grieving family, “they hadn’t appeared in many days. It was only a matter of time before they came back. I just hoped it wouldn’t be him.”   “So would