The high priest of Shamash contemplated the sun and bowed to the west, repeating the holy chant of the sunset. For three thousand years, the cult had been preparing for this season’s solstice, when the planets came into unique alignment and Shamash would be at his greatest power. The sacrifice was properly prepared and spread-eagled on the altar. All was as it should be.
A shadow crossed the altar moving from right to left…
The holy sunset blocked by the shadow of monstrous buildings!
Traction City Cleveland thundered southwest on titanic treads, starving for the oil fields of western Texas.
100 words. Inspired by this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt:
Science Fiction fans may have been exposed to mobile cities novels at some point (Cities in Flight, Mortal Engines, the Cyberiad, lots of steampunk titles).
Springing this one on the unsuspecting visitor at sunset… That feels like a cheat. But hey, it’s what I saw in this image!