Sacrilege

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Sejal
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The short story awards 2020

Among the ruins, the blood of my fallen sister - splashed stark red against the white altar.

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I knelt and the wind seemed to slow; as though drawing in a breath, a thought crossed my mind - Sacrilege!

Why was my sister taken like this? My sister - the beloved of all, was snatched away by death. I should have died instead! No, would have - gladly! That would have been better than enduring this loss.

The cruel irony of the Gods! If only my sister hadn't forgiven Me! 

 

 

 

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