Surrounded by shadows – ink-black – they raise their hands, their voices, call out like children to their mother.
She comes, crowned in shining gold and carried on a throne, shining like a star in the dim light.
The masses cry out to their Queen, promising her anything, everything, and she knows they will deliver.
This is for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Edwin Unrade for providing the prompt photo!