At the Top of an Obelisk [A Flash Fiction]

My old man once said, standing here, and pointing in front with his gold-tipped mahogany cane, “what a city it was…joy…happiness…”

I had asked him, “now…what it is…”

He had a mirth in his broken voice while replying, “grave…graves…those are monolith…no…actually obelisk…on the dream…dreams…of yours…of mine…of children of yours…my grandchildren…”

“Excuse me…sir…Mrs. Gallyot will see you now…”

My train of thoughts got a jolt as the beautiful humanoid assistant approaches me.

I asked it, “You know this is the tallest building…”

It replied, “Yes, sir…”


Inspired by the 100 Word Wednesday #54 by my dear friend Bikurgurl.

100ww_w54


 

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