prison bars

Martyr

His crime broke laws thousands of years old. Thrown into a cell of metal and stone, he was left to contemplate his sins. The only sounds, the wailing of his fellow prisoners and the soft tumble of prayers falling from his own lips. In other cells, other captives scratched marks on their walls with rusty, iron shackles, hopelessly tracking days without sunshine. He didn’t bother. He knew he would leave…

seagull

We need a hero

He was a phantom of mythological proportions. Spoken in hushed, reverent tones, legends of his daring adventures passed from father to son. He was larger than life, strong beyond measure, wiser than all the elders. He was a god. He was also a lie. A hero of tall tales whispered to lackadaisical children, he was an ideal to aspire to, yet never attainable. Generation after generation clung to the fables,…

bleeding heart

The mark

It’s not like she could readily erase her mark. She made sure her clothing covered it, as the law dictated. Wearing long sleeves and high collars in the summer made her stand out, but she could play it off as modesty. The stigma of carrying the mark, surely, was clear on her face. She knew it, and knew her life would be immensely more difficult if she didn’t follow the…