Written in 2017, this was part of an experimental series of vignettes I wrote of a world inspired by Paradise Lost.
Vehicles surround me, sitting amidst the scattered litter and oak tree leaves that rustle against the asphalt in the the light breeze. Blotches of florescent hues mark a vague ring around this fading graveyard. The shouts ring out weakly in the hazy air. Not shouts of joyousness, but of poverty, and filth. It smells of the smoke of rotting wood. Through the haze, the far edges of vision lack definition, except for directly ahead. Through the mist, the red ring of God stands defiant, beckoning me towards his mighty house. Amidst the distance of the night, the church speaks of pride and strength. My bidding draws me forward, and I walk towards the temple. And now, the duality! Closer inspection yields not vigor, but decay. Rot, like the grime that covers these people, and their tongues, and their smiles. The true allure, to lie from afar, but present honesty from within. Their hearts know not contentment beneath these walls, but they will feel at home just as a pig sees the hearth in his shit. They too lay down to bed in their shit.
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