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The hulks spin without purpose in endless freefall. Functions lost to the long ago, impossible in the now. Each no more than debris; single parents to offspring that carry a part of them away forever. Violent matings that spawn more of their kind sparkle and erupt in the void. Countless progeny continue along their futile passage - an inhospitable, tangled necklace with no beginning and no end.

Tendrils of poisoned air clutch at the lowest, dragging them to a bright, hot fate. Long light slashes the sky, unseen through the roiling murk.

Their ash drifts across the choked and silent Earth.

2 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Drew Martyn about 3 years ago

    Superb Chris, with such a powerful and memorable last line.

  • avatar

    Alex Munro almost 3 years ago

    Fantastic, dark drabble.

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