Posted: January 25, 2014 in Flash Fiction, Horror

A great, gray brain-shaped cloud hovered over my hometown last night. Wherever its lightning struck, homes, storefronts, a stable, the corner bar, new ideas began to take hold. People began to be afraid. For the new ideas were terrible things, inhuman things, visions that couldn’t be driven away short of gouging out your eyes with a screwdriver or swallowing every pill in the bottle. There were screams in the night and wails of terror. Tires screeched and alarms rang, but there was nowhere to run to and nothing to run from. The horror was in our heads. Fires raged in some neighborhoods. Gunshots rang out in others. The ideas, and the lightning that brought them, showed us nothing but ourselves – – and how we truly appear to those from the world above. That was why one hundred six people died that night and another fifty died the next morning. Eventually, the brain-cloud departed, though not because it had judged us and we weren’t good enough. The townspeople, including me, had descended into madness because we had been judged worthy.

  1. Pure awesomeness in a thought provoking paragraph.

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