On Christmas Day, the world was spinning, and things were going more or less the way they always did. The stock market was bad, but the money continued to flow regardless. Wise men continued to ponder and dumb men continued to work. In some places children were playing and in others children were dying. Life was good and life was bad, life was short and life was long, life was life and death was death. Humankind was the oldest it had ever been and the youngest it would ever be again.
Then came the ghosts.
First one, then two, then three, then four, then more and more and more, and – guess what? – more. In parks and playpens, shantytowns and grand cities, parched deserts and snow-worn caverns. The ghosts came, all over and around this humble little place we call Earth. Shimmering, strange, ghostly ghosts, transparent as glass and as stubborn as the hardest of rocks. The ghosts had come, and this time, they said, they were here to stay. This was Christmas Day, and the world would never be the same again.
The ghosts spoke. They told of many things, treacherous, horrible things. They hated being dead, hated the cold nothing that came after this world. They wanted what anyone wanted: they wanted the world, their world, and would settle for nothing less. The living did not deserve the Earth, they said, and it was about time they took it back.
The living, as one might guess, were not very keen on this idea. The world was flesh, they said, and it belonged to the fleshy. The ghosts had had their lives and mistakes and loves and losses. The world was no longer theirs for the taking. So began the story of the living and the dead, the fathers and their sons, the teachers and the learners. The ghosts refused to leave, and the living refused to die.
So the ghosts stayed and the people remained. That is the story. The rest is the ending. The dead and the living, both inhabiting a world that had once irrevocably belonged to the other. Never blinking, never wavering in their own faith. “We will not budge,” said the dead. “And we shall not be budged,” said the living. And that, as they said, was that.
The world wore on, and so did the living, the long dead, and the short dead. More wars happened, more chemicals spilled into the water, and the celebrities got even richer while the poor got even poorer. When the bombs went off – and of course the bombs went off – the dead shook their heads and laughed. “We did it with swords,” they said. “With arrows and rocks and knives and even some guns.”
Then, like a bulb flickering between light and darkness, the living began to fade. It happened soon, it happened fast, it happened always and forever. The living slowly drifted away and one day – not soon, not later, not in eternities, but on one otherwise ordinary day – the human race breathed its last and the whole of the earth was naught but phantoms, whispering about and haunting the place that had once been their's and their's alone. The day this happened – if it is truly of any consequence – was New Year's Day, dozens or hundreds or thousands of years after the ghosts set foot on the earth. This was the day the dead won.
But no one – so says the wise – ever wins in war. The world was spoiled, rotten, fallen, deserted, and the ghosts were left with a wasteland and a hell to call their own. Their songs reached the sky and stars above, and even the heavens wept for the suicide of humanity.
And like shadows born away by the light of the dawn, then fled the ghosts.
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125,007 Literary Works • 672,814 Reviews
Wow, I really liked this one. (I don't know why but the first paragraph seemed to rhyme). The story had a meaning and lesson to it, and also a truth of that which is playing out now in the world. I have to say that in my opinion, all the best stories I've ever read have had a depth that not everyone can get to having. And being able to put it down on paper is amazing. I really liked this one, love to hear more
I liked the fact that this writing had a flow. The words lead into each other and the overall pieace was really great
This story is really good! It has great flow, the build ups and turning points are great and the story is tied together in a perfect way, every paragraph complimenting the last.
The plot is genious and it's good that it's a shitty ending. I like how you really show how the humans are what makes life on earth great for humans. I like even more that you only show it, and never tell. The message in this story is brilliant.
The voice of the story is good as well, and you manage to keep it the same throughout the story, never interfering with personal thoughts on the events. This is good in this story, as it is the events in themselves that is interesting, not someone's thought on them.
I love this first paragraph! It's beautifully writeen and easy to follow. It makes you smile and want to read more.
This is perfect. I love how one short sentence is so big. With four words something huge happens, a lot of questions are raised, you have a turning point and the mood of the story changes.
Well done! I like how you tie the story up so that it's easy to follow. After "Then came the ghosts" you went into this description of the ghosts, how they came and what they were like. It would have been easy to just continue the story without tying it up to where you left off when you started your description, but with the last sentence you brought the focus back to where and when we were, making the readers wonder what would happen next.
I like these paragraphs, the description of how it was like. The fact that nothing is really happening is good. You don't tell of what happens as much as how it was as it happened. That's good, because it's always better to read about how it all feels.
Exept for what I commented this is fabolous. How one side actually wins, and you have a real conclusion to your story. The writing in itself is superb and you create beautiful sentences.
Fantastic ending! Simple and clean-cut, but massive all the same.
This is one of those pieces that I read and have to reread until I realize there was nothing I could really think of to critique or pick at. x)
I liked this because as I was reading there was a sort of tempo to it. A rhythm that was easy to follow and flowed constistently the entire way through. It was only slightly morbid, which I liked. More so poetic than anything.
The only immediate thing that caught my eye was this:
Repeated some words there.
Will review. As soon as I'm finished with your last one...
-Kafka