The
following was a response to a writing prompt.
A dystopian tale
In a post-apocalyptic world, Mary had clung to her faith with obdurate resistance. She knew her beliefs would cause her strife, but her mission was to proselytise, no matter what the consequences, for the truth must be broadcast. She sang, she preached, she prayed, always aware that she was being watched and that reports were being sent to the Authorities.
Came the day when she was arrested and, without recourse to common justice, found guilty of sedition. Her sentence, banishment to the outer reaches of the universe, did not seem so terrible, for she could continue her work there, among the congregations of the exiled who had preceded her. It was not like the horrifying punishments suffered by earlier saints, for so she believed she would become. Not for her the excruciating torment of being burned alive, or of being lowered into boiling oil, or the slow suffocation of being crushed to death. The Authorities deplored such savage acts. The New Order advocated mercy to those who would not bend to their laws.
She was to be sent into space, suitably garbed, to live on one of the satellites, far, far away from Earth. She was sad to leave her home and her supporters. It would be hard never again to breathe sweet, fresh air, to feel the sun or breeze upon her skin. She would miss the dawning of the days and the sunsets, the sound of wind in the trees and birdsong at dusk, but she would survive.
A short time into her journey, she was informed that her life support system was to be removed from her, and she was to be jettisoned into the outer darkness. An unimaginable end awaited her. She closed her eyes and prayed.
