Threshold

Have we finally crossed it?

Agnes Louis
Nov 8 · 2 min read
Angry sky. ©Agnes Louis

It was terrifying, you know. Like a bad omen. Rolling, swallowing the pale blue sky, colouring everything in its path, grey.

It was 4PM.

But the sky was so dark you could have mistaken it for 7PM, inducing a bleak black feeling, like you’re about to witness something of great magnitude.

Condemnation.

It’s just that kind of sky, you know.
You can’t help but wonder, have we all arrived?

Is it finally here?

Photo by author. ©Agnes Louis

For we have sinned, haven’t we?

A father and a daughter, found floating face down in a river, lifeless. A wife, a mother, had lost her entire family in one single moment, frozen.

A 13-year-old girl, a bright future lost, as a stray bullet entered her little body, robbing the world of her sunny smile, inventions that could have been, a chance of a better world.

A 14-year-old boy, found by another stray bullet, as he was bouncing a ball, like every other kid. He never went home though, like every other kid. Wrong place, wrong time, they said. Not like every other kid.

A country with so much power, ruled by a boy, who thinks he is a man. Lives lost, in war, in battles of venomous hatred, crusades against labels, categories, names, that don’t matter as much as the lives lost, the blood shed.

An abundant planet that gives. And gives and gives and gives. Till there’s nearly no more to give, and still, we take. Killing, maiming, suffocating. Till it cries bloody tears, no more, no more, it begs. And still, we take. Because it’s our birthright, so one human said, as other humans listened, nodded in rapt attention.

I sat there behind the steering wheel, staring at the ominous sky, as a barrage of sins rained upon my weary soul and questions, one after another, like the stray bullets that hit those poor children.


The sky cleared as the downpour ceased.

Sunlight, slowly dispersing, filling every surface with its warmth.

Makes one wonder,


Author’s note: Inspired by a thought, a musing, when I was driving. The black cloud was so dark it stroke fear in my core. I just couldn’t help but wonder.

A Cornered Gurl

Where Writers Break Out of the Box.

Thanks to Tre L. Loadholt

Agnes Louis

Written by

Writer by heart. Teacher by trade. I teach English, Yoga and Pilates. Avid reader. World traveller. Model.

A Cornered Gurl

Where Writers Break Out of the Box.

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