As I mentioned in this blog entry, I entered a Flash Fiction challenge despite a) Not having written Flash Fiction before, b) not really having time to enter such challenges and c) not actually knowing what Flash Fiction was. Well, it’s now the second day of the first month of the challenge, and as I’m supposed to get four pieces done this week despite starting a new job tomorrow, I figured I had better get started. What follows is the first draft of the first ever piece of Flash Fiction I have ever written. It clocks in at 338 words, which fits nicely in my stated goal of “300 – 500 words, hopefully closer to the 300 end.” So read it, and leave my somecriticisms and comments so I can do better with my second attempt.
How dare He!
He says that I’m the one that’s too proud, while he’s busy making some kind of plan about futile, powerless creatures in His image taking over His creation and my rightful place. How am I the prideful one here? It’s clearly all on Him. But no, He summons me before His great white throne and I hear His voice. He didn’t actually speak, but merely projected his thoughts at me.
“Morning star,” He says, using the title He granted me at my creation. “Your arrogance will lead to rebellion.” It’s not a question, nor a prediction. He just knows. I don’t bother denying it. How can I? It was pre-ordained. By Him.
But is it wrong to take pride in my work? He calls me “Morning Star” because of that work; I am the Light Bringer who illuminates the day for the sniveling creatures He has made. Those creatures He calls “a little lower than the Host” but even I see that his vainglorious endgame is to have them reign over us. Beneath Him, of course, as they can’t possibly equal Him. And again, I’m the one exiled from the Kingdom for pride because?
Exile is too compassionate a word for it. I’m hurtling towards His newest creations, the heat of my passing through the heavens and the atmosphere causing my celestial body to erupt in flames. I’m truly a Morning Star in body as well as title now. I try to use my power to change form to slow this descent. It doesn’t work. He has restricted me to this form. No, He’s deigned to allow me another shape. I take it.
Along sinuous body with a forked tongue four stubby legs. I don’t understand His mind at all. I land in his new creation next tone of the new creatures. The second one. It looks hungry and confused. I shall open its eyes to the truth He hides from them.
Oh, and what light of knowledge will the Light Bringer bring to them.