Sunday Photo Fiction: Babel Falling


I was curiously studying the buildings downtown. Especially a building shaped like an elongated pyramid. It was under construction and would be the tallest building there was. It felt out of place to me. Like the Tower of Babel  built to the heavens. I think it was a mistake to build it so high. 

It made me think of the pyramids where the Egyptian Pharohs were buried. Pyramids built by slaves who toiled and died. It was hard work to toil so high in the sky. This tower also made me think of the Inca’s and the ziggurats on which they sacrificed an innocent person, cutting out their hearts for their blood thirsty gods.

I observed something was wrong high up on the elongated pyramid. I heard the squeak of steel and I cringed when I heard the breaking of glass shattering. Pieces of the building began to plummet to the streets below. I tried to avoid them. The closer the pieces come, I understand. I am a sacrifice. The tower of Babel is falling. That is what happens when you pay only enough money for near slave labour. I cast my eyes to the heaven in prayer as a piece of metal silences my thoughts. 

Alistair Forbes

Thanks to Alastair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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