Top of the World by A. N. Gretly

I stood at the top of the world, and I pondered all the lives, all the stories that have been told, and the ones that are yet to be written. Scribbles on worn parchment, scroll after scroll, the ink still wet, black in colour, all these words that do not tell lies but secrets unspoken, hidden in bottles lost at sea. And I see, I see everything unravel into lucid plots that speak clearly of the things that were once whispered in the dark, now revealed, naked for all to see. But no one is there to witness this, only I and I alone. Oh, that does not make me special, or even slightly lucky, for I am but a humble human, cursed by knowledge of what creeps the streets at night. I stood at the top of the world, and I pondered all the lives, all the stories that have been told, and the ones that are yet to be written. I have had a vision like this once, of a humongous wave of humans rising over the horizon, blocking the sun, and those faces, those sordid faces twisted in hangman knots that sliped over and over again, and I heard lives snap, I heard dreams suffocate. Now, this city is spread before me, and I feel the vibrations of the earth beneath my feet. I stood at the top of the world, and I pondered all the lives, all the stories that have been told, and the ones that are yet to be written; a wave is coming.

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About Ahmed Gretly

Ahmed Nader Gretly. Construction/Site Engineer, fiction writer, poet, psychopath, researcher, a book addict, and a daydreamer from Cairo, Egypt. Currently doing Construction Project Management, MSc, at Heriot-Watt University, Edinburgh.
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