The Roads Must Roll

Flash Fiction

The Age of Power mélanges into the Age of Transportation almost imperceptibly,  but the finest energy weapons make a difference,  on them, they were the borrowgroves.  Adjoint inspection party of all the races made sure that the duty of the scanner was satisfied by the Mars of heaven.  It was in a little black bag that the secret of the coming attraction was kept. 

Her voice came shuttering from behind the sleek black satin mask. The service tension held everything together before the 9 billion names of God.  It was the cold equation where the lives of men could be as fragile and leading as spam tossed against a rocky shore. That the of the entities say at the preacher, vanity of vanities.

And shown through the stars in a soul-searing splendor cold in its awful indifference on the craggy world called earth.