They plunged into the orange glowing mouth of my kiln—yes, the whole choir dove straight into the fire. It blazed white and emitted a stench of burnt feathers. Then the angels were nothing but dark bodies going to ash, leaving me on my knees staring after them shocked and silenced in disbelief.
Podcast: Download (Duration: 00:35:11 — 24.16MB)
Subscribe: Apple Podcasts | Google Podcasts | RSS | More
Read “For Rain Is To Wet and Fire To Burn” by Robert Minto, in Issue #337