Flash Fiction by Leigh Ward-Smith
Genre: Modern Fantasy
A swell of laughter pushed through fleshy lips the color of the Calypso Deep.
“The Egyptians got it wrong with all that Isis prattle.” He traced the rough underside of an amber bottle with his thumb.
“Me, I relished washing impertinent man ashore.”
He marveled at his collection, which now filled thirty-three warehouses and the bar in Bermuda.
“Even Zeus’ conquests cannot rival mine. From every ellipse of the Earth and practically every nationality and language!”
His hubris drifted to rage about the banishment. At least I have these glass reminders of measly man, he gestured.
“In the end, I judge all humans’ hearts are the same.”
He picked a bottle at random and hurled it to the stone floor.