Fast Fiction Challenge: A Reason For Living
Title: A Reason For Living
Word: askance
Challenger: sarahx
Length: 200 words exactly The hero sat on the rooftop and wept.
His associates stayed clear of him, and spent their evening making sure he wasn’t disturbed.
He was, for example, entirely unaware of the bank robbery that was taking place only two blocks away, equally unaware of the semi-spherical construct formed to hide the sound of the criminals’ capture.
Those of a more urban bent kept the streets safe that night. They’d all been told to do so, but had not been told why. They’d looked askance at the appeal, and had then realised it had not been a request.
The hero considered his long years on the planet. And wept.
He thought of his adopted parents, now long dead. They’d taught him so much, made him effectively human, though he knew he’d never truly be one of them.
He thought of his first wife, buried centuries ago. And the others, so many of them.
He thought of them all. And wept.
He thought of those who wished him harm, and of what he’d done merely to survive, let alone prosper.
And then he heard again the cry of his child. His first child, born less than an hour ago.
And he wept.
© Lee Barnett, 2006
Word: askance
Challenger: sarahx
Length: 200 words exactly The hero sat on the rooftop and wept.
His associates stayed clear of him, and spent their evening making sure he wasn’t disturbed.
He was, for example, entirely unaware of the bank robbery that was taking place only two blocks away, equally unaware of the semi-spherical construct formed to hide the sound of the criminals’ capture.
Those of a more urban bent kept the streets safe that night. They’d all been told to do so, but had not been told why. They’d looked askance at the appeal, and had then realised it had not been a request.
The hero considered his long years on the planet. And wept.
He thought of his adopted parents, now long dead. They’d taught him so much, made him effectively human, though he knew he’d never truly be one of them.
He thought of his first wife, buried centuries ago. And the others, so many of them.
He thought of them all. And wept.
He thought of those who wished him harm, and of what he’d done merely to survive, let alone prosper.
And then he heard again the cry of his child. His first child, born less than an hour ago.
And he wept.
© Lee Barnett, 2006