Imagined Realities

The parkway of an angel is what he'd seen. The road was not a road at all, but a path of pure, shimmering light that stretched out into a sky with no sun, for its lamp was the Lamb. The light seemed to hum with a sound both ancient and new, a melody of pure joy playing on a sunburst harp. He knelt down on the path, the shimmering light passing through his hands like treacle. A profound and impossible thirst rose within him. "Drink the road." Note: The writing is wholly my work, but I used an AI tool to help me visualise the story. This is the result.

Closer Rokubu plunged his face into the heart of the roaring fireplace, the enormous cigar between his beefy lips now ablaze. He withdrew his head from the flames, a cloud of thick, acrid smoke billowing from his mouth, his eyes now fixed on a shadowy figure in the corner of the room. ​“You look cold out there in the shadows,” his voice, a low and guttural growl. “Come closer to the fire.” ​The figure, a small man cloaked in darkness, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ​“No?”, his chuckle was gravel in a grinder. “So rude. You've made a powerful man do a lot of work today, little mouse.”  ​His black pinstripe suit groaned at the seams as he waddled towards the figure. With a final, dismissive flick of his cigar, the red sparks fell in a shower of embers, extinguishing themselves on the small man’s head. Note: The writing is wholly my work, but I used an AI tool to help me visualise the story. This is the result.

​Lamplight caught the obsidian carriage window. ​Arthur leered at his own reflection, a tremor in his fingers betraying the perfect composure of his face. With a practiced, steady hand, he adjusted the collar of his coat. ​A single, treasonous tear slipped from the corner of his eye. ​He didn't wipe it away. Not yet. It burned a path down his cheek to his lips, and he tasted brine and sorrow. ​His eyes hardened into a cold resolve as he tore the white silken bow from his throat and let it fall to the dirt. In one graceful, calculated motion, he pivoted in his velvet sabatons and mounted the grand marble staircase. Lightning tore through the night sky, and in that brilliant flash, it betrayed bewildered hazel eyes on the other side. ​The flash vanished, and in the sudden dark, a man who saw nothing but himself continued a solitary ascent. Note: The writing is wholly my work, but I used an AI tool to help me visualise the story. This is the result.

The Goliath's strength waned, his will a smouldering wick. A pillar of granite that once stood defiant now trembled, as he sank to his knees in the icy mud. And wept. Lashings of rain washed hot tears into the earth. A tiny ember ignited deep within his chest. Ex Nihilo. A will not his own, but altogether lovely and familiar warmed a heart of stone. A conquest, benign. Note: The writing is wholly my work, but I used an AI tool to help me visualise the story. This is the result.