So here’s a try at a different post format. Let’s see how it works…

I missed the deadline for this weeks #ThrusThreads flash competition but I had an idea for it and couldn’t help but right it anyway. I didn’t want to leave a story, no matter how small, unfinished and I’m counting it towards my story a day goal. It also gives me something to put on the blog today, I’m trying to get a post up everyday this week. I might be back with something later today about the newest title from monkeybrain comics but until then I give you:

Triumph

Phil stumbled through the gilded doors of the audience chamber and collapsed. Across the marble floor sat a white-haired, shriveled old man leaning on a gnarled staff. The Oracle.

The old man didn’t speak as Phil crawled, too exhausted to stand, toward him. When he had made it, his progress heralded by labored breathing and the rattle of the gear which hung off his pack, he let himself fall forward in a kind of bow. With the last of his strength he half-rose and knelt facing the awesome little man.

The Oracle only stared at him.

“I’ve braved your mountain. I’ve been stalked by yetis. I have not eaten for three days and my only water was snow I melted in my mouth. I think I may lose half my toes to frostbite. But I made it. Master I am here. I humbly claim my right to an answer,” Phil said.

The old man didn’t move, or blink, or speak for some seconds that felt like slices of eternity. Finally he gave an unsteady nod. “You know your choices?”

“Yes,” Phil said. “Tell me about my greatest triumph.”

“That is your wish?”

Phil nodded. “I need to know what lies in my future. I need hope.”

The old man just shook his head in sad, side-to-side arcs. “Your greatest triumph began at the foot of my mountain. You faced yetis, hunger and thirst…”