Communion
Flash Fiction: When your god forsakes you, what is truly lost?
THE communion was over, but I remained, bereft; the sole remaining member of the congregation.
“Have I not been true to your calling?”
My plea went unheeded. The focus of my faith provided no answer. The church was quiet, but for the occasional patter of dripping liquid.
Red gore, the mulched remains of my fellow congregants, squelched underfoot as I approached the shadows beyond the nave. Once more I beseeched my Lord.
“My God, why have you forsaken me?”
A hiss from the shadows; a gurgle. A rush of air, laden with the stench of carrion. The voice, low and rumbling, answered.
“Indigestion.”
MC
End Note:
This micro-story was originally posted as a Note; thought I’d preserve it here, even though it seems a little on the short side for a post.
The story began life as tweet on Twitter (X, if you must) in response to a #horrorprompt tag. The original was a bit too long, so had to be pared down. Then I extended the original a bit to create this version.
Just to let you know, the image above was sourced from Pixabay. Didn’t feel I should use the image that accompanied the horror prompt.