The spinner of fate looked at her collection of threads; completed, wrapped around their reel. Life over. Such a shame. More vibrant the life, richer in colour the thread. The blacks and grey separated into their own collection; fated to entertain the devil. It would be easier to destroy the wicked, rid their dark souls from existence but contained energy was controllable, free-roaming energy corrupted and expanded. The rainbow threads destined to be recycled and the bright upcycled.
The spinner focused on the living thread between her fingers. A strong and charismatic life, not ready to be cut short. Much potential in troubling times. Dropping her scissors, destiny prevailed. A neon green thread glowed from the box of completed lives. A knowing smile crept on the weaver’s lips as she took the illuminating twine and tied the end to the mother thread in her grasp, weaving a new life. A magnificent leader to be born in an age of chaos.
This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yarnspinnerr for Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers