This short piece (100 words almost) was written in response to the Secret Keeper’s challenge to use these five words in either a poem or prose piece:
| GHOST| ROUGH | DUST | STRANGE | TURN |
The night sky was aglimmer with strange dust. They leant on the windowsill and watched, in awe, as the dust specks grew larger, brighter, closer.
Putting their hands over their eyes, they screwed them tight shut against the brilliance as rough diamonds poured, a torrent, a cascade, bursting through the earth’s atmosphere in a blinding flash of carbon flare.
The rain of diamonds swept the turning Earth, swept away the flimsy concrete and stone shelters, flushed out the puny occupants and carried their ghosts, whispering their goodbyes, into the black void.