Sunday, August 2, 2015

100 Words a Day 672

The setting sun cast long shadows across the floor of the crumbling temple. And they seemed to flit about. Undeterred, M’dir knelt before the decrepit altar and waited. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, a chorus of whispers rang out through the one room structure.

“I can give you what you want,” a voice whispered in his ear.

“How do you know what I want?”

The voice hissed an answer: “You want power. Yes? I can give this to you. Just give me what I ask for.”

“What do you want?”

“Such a small price to pay.”

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