Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

The Defiling - A Short Story
The Defiling - A Short Story
The Defiling - A Short Story
Ebook42 pages19 minutes

The Defiling - A Short Story

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

On a pilgrimage across a pitiless desert, three poets find a small child dying of thirst and exposure. They stop to observe and create art from the moment, for this is the work of true poets—their duty to the world. To interfere in the event would be to risk defilement.

One poet will never comprehend the tragedy they are about to witness. One will lose everything she possesses, and the third will feel the weight of her next decision for every moment of her life to come.

The Defiling originally appeared in Amazing Stories magazine, edited by Patrick L. Price. This edition contains an afterword by the author, “Poets in the Wilderness.”

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 23, 2015
ISBN9781507002063
The Defiling - A Short Story

Read more from Bridget Mc Kenna

Related to The Defiling - A Short Story

Related ebooks

Short Stories For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for The Defiling - A Short Story

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    The Defiling - A Short Story - Bridget McKenna

    The Defiling title page

    Table of Contents

    Free e-Book Offer

    Copyright Page

    The Defiling

    ornament

    WE CAME DOWN from the plateau, past the places of occasional rain, and the desert was upon us without warning, red as blood.

    There were three of us that year, poets and pilgrims crossing the empty places to the city under the stone, and we were nearer our journey’s end than its beginning when we rode down a lip of ruby sand and paused a the bottom to consider the prospect that stretched before us. We would cut across this southeastern corner, skirting most of the great central desert that each year devours a larger portion of the fertile land around it like some greedy beast. When we rested at last, it would be under the great weight of the sky-stone that shelters our spirits and hears our vows.

    I represented the Western Poethouse as I have done every seventh year of my matriarchy, to oversee the giving and taking of sacred vows and the assigning of poets to the patrons for whom they had been chosen. In front of me rode Dionaïs, who would be leaving us when we reached Novarabi to become a poet in a great house, and behind me rode Amalthea.

    What can I say of Amalthea? Her very existence was a poem. Her inner beauty so matched her outer perfection that every action embodied the perfect balance of form and meaning for which the true poet must strive all her days. Her mother, realizing what a

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1