“Sacrifices Must Be Made”
A long line of figures slowly walked away from the town and out to a nearby field. All were in hooded cloaks, but few were of the same color or design. In the center of the field lay a small pile of dry wood. The line of figures walked to the pile, and each paused to add to it some item, be it a bottle of wine, a photo of a loved one, or a cherished book. After placing their item, the figures walked to the other end of the field and silently waited.
For hours the pile continued to grow. But eventually, the line ended with a figure in an ornate cloak carrying a torch. This figure walked around the pile before turning to the mass. Raising their hands, they called out in a deep, rich voice, “O, gods of democracy, accept these humble offerings. In exchange, we beseech you to restore democracy to our land. For too long we have been absent your glory. We know we have erred, thus, these offerings.”
The figure turned towards the pile and set their torch near a clump of books. The paper started to burn and quickly spread to the dry wood beneath. With all the paper and alcohol, the fire really took off, and within twenty minutes all that remained was a smoldering heap of coals.
The ornate figure studied the coals for a moment, then raised their hands and called out, “It is done. Go in peace.”
Towards the middle of the field, a woman threw back her hood and let out a relived sigh. “Now things should get back to normal,” she called to her fellows who all nodded.
“Remember when we thought voting was a way to save democracy?” someone called out, resulting in all who heard it laughing.
Go back to the main Monthly Story page, or the main page of my website.
For each story I publish, I like to give the backstory, or anything interesting that happened while writing it. You can see what I wrote for this story on my Published Works page.
***
If you liked this story, you might want to check out The Most Powerful Man in the World and other stories, my collection of five, short, scifi stories.
