Plastic Treasons

Cradled beneath a blood red star were ancient ruins long forgotten, wasted in the memory and membranes of a putrid, fleshy race. Pulled the cyber forges, bodies coated in plastic and darkness, moaned in the shadows under a splintered moon – the sacred rock flung towards infinity from their winged rocketry - floated in the starless skies, above a graveyard whose grounds echoed with blood-shod and boot-stained treasons. were the only pieces.

Look up, they said, eyes twisted inside the black webs above, neither emptiness nor the dread of truth in bleak infinity were enough to keep them from cannibalizing their lack of reason for the sake of hope.

No, there was no hope, nor the possibility except for a billion plastic bodies coated in a thick, translucent mucus, unnaturally birthed from the mouth of cyber forges across the cracked planet, cradled beneath a blood red star - long forgotten, the wasted membranes of a putrid, fleshy race.

Maxwell I. Gold is a Jewish American multiple award nominated author who writes prose poetry and short stories in cosmic horror and weird fiction with half a decade of writing experience. Four time Rhysling Award nominee, and two time Pushcart Award nominee, find him at www.thewellsoftheweird.com.

Find more by Maxwell I. Gold in the Author Index.