Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt is this week
It was the first time the clouds had parted in generations, a small shiny space in the otherwise uniform grey.
People speculated why it had happened and why here, in an obscure corner of an obscure country.
Many came to see for themselves. The stacks, hardly noticed in past years became viewing positions. Significance was invested in the fact that the Gap occurred above these plinths. Superstition begets reason. Religious thinkers reviewed texts and found meaning. Rationalists saw change resulting from human interference and posited the need for altered behaviours. Governments and materialists saw opportunities for coherence and cash. The unexpected sunlight damaged retinas and triggered warnings and medical advances.
Far above the cloud layer, Horace stared down through the hole and focused on a party of tourists about the climb the newly constructed stairs on the Eastern Stack, the better to view this awe-inspiring phenomena. They were the latest pilgrims who had spent their savings on this opportunity to pay homage to the Wonder of the Gap, the Eye to the universe.
Horace had become bored with Earth, a humdrum little world his father, Atlas had bought at the flea market that clustered around the foothills of Olympus and offered an overworked God the chance to pick up a birthday present for a son whose anniversary he’d forgotten due to the current focus on creating a new home for the expanding legions of deities, self-important world builders and semi-omniscient prophets. Earth, a little scuffed and shop soiled but containing an active group of humanoids seemed ideal for the indolent Horace.
Horace blew and a hurricane detached thirteen souls from the stairs, committing them to their doom and the immortality of the unexpected demise. He giggled and another twenty-seven swooning soothsayers lost their footing on the Western Stack. All eyes turned to the Gap and an almighty gasp was released at they saw the Eye, the all-seeing and somewhat bloodshot orb that filled the hole as Horace regarded his handiwork.
‘Horace!’ His mother, Athena bellowed from the Stygian depths, ‘Get down here now. Your new superpower is ready and you need to try on the uniform’
As scribes frantically sought to find just the right amount of hyperbole to describe the events that had taken place, forever changing the course of human history and allowing thirteen new religions to be formed, Horace closed his bedroom door and shuffled to the stairs.
‘And if you’ve been playing God with that grotty little planetoid your father saw fit to buy you, then please wash your hands. We have no idea where it’s been or what state it’s in.’