As John slid the key into place, a bead of sweat dripped out of his armpit, down his forearm, and across his fingertip before splashing onto the detonator.
He had received the call from the President, starships were swarming, and an internecine fate lay just beyond the twitch of his wrist.
He took a breath.
Closed his eyes.
And imagined himself as a child, playing marbles with the other kids on the schoolyard on a Fall day.
He fumbled for a blue marble in his faded leather pouch, held it to the sky, and admired the slanted light glow through the miniature world.
John placed the blue marble on the ground, and aimed at another marble, sticking his tongue out in concentration. He flicked it hard. One sphere crashed into the other.
Both shattered.
Fragments of glass flew into his eyes, like stars in a midnight sky.
This is a Friday newsletter. Each week I pick a new word I’m trying to learn, then use it in a short story. Suggest a word in the comments. See ya next week wordos!
Anathema
Another novel beginning.
Novel:
1.Original or striking in conception or style.
2. An invented prose narrative