Photo credit @Roger Bultot
Reflection of Sin
My home world and all of my transgressions reflected in mockery through its enormous eye. It snapped its mandible in anticipation. I scrambled backwards trying to find my footing as my flesh tore against the gravel.
It was true that I had fallen far from grace: the son repeats the sins of the father.
Cruel punishment, to be devoured, even by my most honorable sire’s standards. I surged with sword in hand blinding the beast and forever erasing the images of home and hearth.
I was alone again with my crimes.
Photograph by USGS Bee Inventory and Monitoring Lab
Post script: I re-read my work today and realized that this tale although meant to be an attempt at sci-fi could be a parable. Do we have a choice? To be devoured by our sins or set ourselves free from our past? Does history have to repeat itself? The sins of our fathers. In that sense it becomes almost biblical.
For more tales of reflection go here to Friday Fictioneers. Rochelle Wiseoff-Fields our hostess will give you 100 words to light your way.