Copyright David Stewart
The world had changed.
Many times over, the world had changed.
Stretching, grasping. Almost within reach.
Stone moves, given enough time.
He should never have approached the old woman’s standing stones. The legends gave warning enough – he thought of them as the tales of frightened peasants.
He should never have reached out to pull her blackening bread from the fire, even if he was only trying to help.
“Stone moves, given enough time.” She had whispered in his ear as his feet petrified beneath him, calcifying, immobile.
The world had changed, but stone will move, given enough time.
Freedom.
Nearly.
Written for this weekend’s Friday Fictioneers prompt. And exactly 100 words!
Comments and criticism always welcome!
chris white writes 
I really enjoyed this.
Well, that’s a cool statue. Fitting for the piece, too.
Very nice. I like the image too.
well done, like history, philosophy, and anthropology all at the same time.
in this line: “She had whispered in his ear as his feet petrified beneath him…” something sounds awkward. i think it had to do with “petrified.” to my ear, something is missing. as if maybe it should be “his feet became petrified beneath him.” not sure if i’m right, but that’s how it feels.
Yeah, I see what you’re getting at – I guess it was a situation of trying too hard but not seeing the double-up…thanks for pointing it out, and I’m glad you still enjoyed the story!
very much enjoyed.
I agree, petrified could just be ‘turned to stone’ – especially with calcifying and immobile following on afterwards. You sometimes alienate your reader by using too fancy language
I enjoyed this. Pity he was petrified while trying to help.