The Angel Damian

Beautiful, Beautiful Pylon

I finally set out on my bicycle that afternoon. Ever since the Alien had appeared on the skyline two days ago, people had been staying in their houses, afraid of what might happen next. The village of Gaskin was a quiet place and somewhat behind the times. Many of them didn’t even know that the old Queen had died last year and a King now sat on the throne. This new arrival so close to home was altogether  too much for most of them. But I have always had a relentless desire to see fresh things.

After twenty minutes brisk pedalling, I came to a halt in front of the Alien. As I gazed up its symmetrical lines and angles, I felt I beheld a different form  of beauty to any I could have hitherto have imagined. The mysterious sound of humming I had heard from a distance was much louder here. It seemed to whisper strange stories to me.

I dismounted from my bicycle and it tumbled incontinently to the ground. I paid it no heed. I knew I would never go home. And then…

SAM_8175

SAM_8179

SAM_8180

SAM_8182

SAM_8180 - Copy

Damian Mark Whittle

Advertisements
This entry was published on September 5, 2015 at 7:44 pm. It’s filed under Digital Art, Flash Fiction, photography, Science Fiction and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: