A retooling of the creation myth through the lens of "wanting to be love vs. giving love to others." and the cyclical nature of losing one's parent. Clocks in at a measly 1,200 words. Yet another short-short attempt for my speculative fiction class.
- - - - I lived in an orphanage in the sky. It had no ceiling, but sheltered many children. None of us knew of hunger or sickness or death, but we were alone, so we knew sadness. Yet we also knew not how we came to be or how we would end, so we knew hope.
Soft rays of dawn woke me at morning, but the last sigh of sunset never gentled me to sleep. Unlike the others I stayed awake, staring at stars, making constellations of the faces I hoped my parents had. I often fell asleep wondering if I had parents at all.
One night I saw two new stars. The first was brighter than all others, so I called it Mother, and the other bigger, so I called it Father. Night by night they journeyed closer to the horizon. I dreamed of the day they’d land. Then I knew they'd come to me
They were alone as in there weren't any other adults there, which was what I was going to say. I may do some edits to clarify-ing the missing something you've never had, but for me I think people reach out for love or a parental figure even if they can't really remember it all that well. IDK. It's more of a metaphorical story than going for exact psychological realism, but we'll see if with the edits I make it still works a little bit for you.
Posts: 37 | Registered: Dec 2012
| IP: Logged |
Interesting start. I knew what you meant without your having to explain it (being alone+wondering about parents) It made me think, and that's not bad;)
Posts: 39 | Registered: Feb 2013
| IP: Logged |