Falling stars feel shame

Yesterday I was one god swamped by a pantheon. Our clay children pined for justice while imagining us wielding it behind the stars. Locked away behind the purple satin of the night I was captive to the gaze of those moulded crudely in my shape. They told their children stories about us, first of all thankful, then as generations rose and fell they became doubtful. As we failed to intervene we built up squat huts of recrimination with bricks of murder and accident. Endless death gave them hunger, and their knowledge of our creation helped them to realise, in their eager briefness, that the gods prized them as mere trembling moments of toil. Surer than any weapon, their disbelief weakened us.

 

Today I left that behind, for I cast myself out and let my godhood burn from me in a falling star’s trail. Now I look up seldom. Neither do I look over my shoulder, for I know what is coming: but at least I can now tell my children I love them.

Reviews

[Crow Splat]

I liked it. I felt that the language of it lent credibility. I felt like I was listening to someone speak who was actually, formerly a god.

You did a good job conveying the sense that the gods needed man but regarded them with disdain at the same time. A fairly common theme in tales revolving around the decline of monotheistic religions.

I am curious, in the last paragraph, in relinquishing his/her status as a god, does the narrator become mortal as well? I would think they do, and it is that combined with humanity no longer being a "necessary evil" that would bring them to say that they now love their children.

[trokanmariel33]

In reading the story/text, I was able to keep the sense of the story in tact. A bit of a quaint and convenient reaction, and behaviour on my part, given the clay context and theme of the story.

[Thomas W Case]

Powerful work. Very well crafted.

[Haley]

This story has stumped, I want to say a million things but don't know where to start. It's raw and open about how generationally things become less of a shiny prize and more of the way things go. It's a call to do things differently and go against the grain. I'm sure you can interpret this in many more ways, but I love how you crafted this piece!

[Isabella Cezanne]

This story is so beautiful, it hits me in the chest. Though, I can't explain why. There's something about it that makes it seem...ethereal

[iceintheattic]

How everything is perceived so differently. Some days when I read, I wonder what's on a writers mind to be able to compose such a thing then other days I'd write and realized, ah, I had an answer to my own question. Astonishing truly -

[Frederick P Samson]

Nice poem, a enjoyed reading it

[Gibbons]

I think this is a good start to the story but it might still need some work. Grammar and punctuation etc can easily be fixed. The style is a little obtuse but you have got a lot across with a low word count and that is a great skill to have.

[Book Publisher on the M..]

Yesterday I was (one god swamped by a pantheon) [Reword]. Our clay children pined for justice while imagining us wielding it behind the stars. Locked away behind the purple satin of the night I was captive to the gaze of those moulded [did you mean molded?] crudely in my shape. They told their children stories about us, (first of all thankful) [awkward phase and disrupts flow], then as generations rose and fell they became doubtful. As we failed to intervene we built up squat huts of recrimination with bricks of murder and accident. Endless death gave them hunger, and their knowledge of our creation helped them to (realise) [misspelled], in their eager briefness, that the gods prized them as mere trembling moments of toil. (Surer than any weapon) [awkward, especially the phrase “Surer than any weapon], their disbelief weakened us.

 

(Today I left that behind) [reword], for I cast myself out and let my godhood burn from me in a falling star’s trail. (Now I look up seldom) [You could use a metaphor to establish the point]. (Neither do I look over my shoulder) [awkward sentence], for (I know what is coming) [don’t tell the reader you know what is coming— be descriptive and elegant] but at least I can now tell my children I love them.

THE GOOD: I loved the line, “… let my godhood burn from in a falling star’s trail. You obviously have talent and it is evident that you tried very hard on this.
Another good line, “Our clay children pined for justice while imagining us wielding it behind a story.

Constructive Criticism- It is obvious to me that you have this story in your head and I think you have trouble getting it down on paper in a format that flows with ease. Although I marked the paper up, I am doing so from a professional assessment. I think you write very well and I would not waste my time on this unless I saw a great deal of potential. Remember to eliminate words that do not give the story substance.
One impressive aspect of this short story is that you wrote something that in a very limited amount of words and most people will never be able to achieve this. Keep trying! I like what you write!
I had to read it several times because the meaning was not clear at first. If a reader has to reread work— you have lost them. Overall, not bad, and I believe you can do even better or I would not waste my time! Do not get discouraged by the markup. You have a great deal of potential! The subtly and train of thought shows talent!

Keep writing!

Kind Regards,
Max
 

[karry]

Falling leaves will once rise again.For sure.Do not fall in love.Rise in love.

[GeorgiaR]

I really enjoyed reading this. I thought the language was fantastic, and the imagery was great.
Reminds me of Ozymandias by Percy Byshee Shelley!