There it stood, gleaming in its wickedness and immorality. That unholy city had a kind of sick beauty to it; aglow, day and night with its vile promiscuity.
Of course it was gold – gilded with the sins of those who lived there. They talked a good game about “love, love, love,” but holiness? No. Righteousness? No.
Out here in the twilight, I leaned on my shovel and stared at the ungodly abomination.
Inside, it was called by another name, but I preferred the name the Bible gave it: Babylon.
The kings would be coming soon. Bringing tribute, no doubt. Tribute and trading goods.
For almost as long as I had lived here, in the shadow of the city that never goes dark, I had lived with righteous anger against it.
I scarcely remember a time when I have not been waiting for God’s righteous judgment on that foul city.
Maybe it was the beginning of the first day I found myself here. I thought it was heaven. I thought I had finally made it. A city filled with brilliant light. They welcomed me in, gave me a place to stay. They told me how glad they were that I had come.Continue reading “The City: A Short Story”