Their Eyes Were Flowers

Was it a dream or a glimpse into the future?

Photo by Hussein Sorkheveis on Unsplash

The air is heavy.

I don’t know where I am.

Around me is a wasteland with no end in sight.

I wander on bare feet that ache with every step.

Then I see a man with a lion’s head, and he wears a dapper suit the color of blood. When his maw opens, it is one open chasm — a black hole in the form of a man-eater’s mouth. If I were to tumble inside it, I’d be an Alice falling into a world filled with creatures whose lips curl back into screams of carnage.

I run from the lion-headed man, as any sane person would do, but then I see three girls with flowers blooming where their eyes would be. One holds a pair of golden scissors, another unwinds a spool of red thread, and the last holds a set of scales.

The girl with the scissors smiles at me, her rose-adorned eyes shedding crimson petals. She holds up the scissors to the other girl’s red thread, and my heart stammers in my chest because I know nothing good can come of that string being cut.

Before I can run from them too, the girl with the scales puts a hand on my arm. “You have to pay the tithe,” she says.

I shake my head and open my mouth to speak.