Any thoughts are welcome, critical, praising, or anywhere in between.

Steel Toed Boots, Heavily Polished

Click-clack. Click-clack. Click-clack.

His footsteps are two-part; first His heel, then His toe. The boots clap against the cobblestone like the tap dancing He forces Columbia to practice.

I understand now that I was wrong, He says.

I understand now that I was wrong, I scribble in the journal. My fingers shake until the words are barely legible. My breath comes in short gasps.

I, Thomas Lightly, have committed the gravest sin, that of treason.

I, Thomas Lightly, have committed the gravest sin, that of treason, I write.

The edge of the platform digs into the backs of my knees. My legs dangle into open air, towards farmland passing miles beneath us. The different crops and plots of land make a patchwork quilt of greens and browns.

I glance up at Him. His face is silhouetted by the sun, the sun that sends brilliant rays around his figure.

Show mercy, sir. Forgiveness. Please.

He pauses, and the rhythm of clacking boots stops. Look down.

Excuse me?                

I said look down!

I train my eyes on his boots. Anything to not see that patchwork quilt waiting for me.

You do not have the right to behold me, devil, He says.

Forgive me?

No.

Click-clack. Click-clack. Click-clack.

His stride has purpose; each heel, then toe landing furthers a goal. The boots are heavily polished, and the steel toes glisten. An insect buzzes around his foot and lands on the ground.

I have been unfaithful to everything Columbia stands for, He says.

The steel catches a ray of sunlight and forces me to squint my eyes. When I open them again, the insects guts are just a blemish on the shining city.

I turn back to the journal.

I have been unfaithful to everything Columbia stands for, I write.

Ill convert, sir. Just let me live, and Ill be the greatest Columbian citizen youve ever seen. I try to take a deep breath, but gasps catch in my throat.

Lies! His foot slams the ground.

Have mercy. I beg of you.

The devil tries to confuse us. He tries to make us trade our faith for humanity, tries to convince me to spare you for this humanity. His voice rises into a fervor. But the only humanity any of us has is our faith. Dont you see?

I pause. No, sir.

Of course you dont. And you never will. You are not human, because you are not faithful. Without faith you have no morals, nothing to hold back your evil.

My gaze drifts back to the quilt so far, far beneath us. My stomach twists into a knot and leaps into my throat.

Ill repent, Ill do anything you want. A tear slips out of an eye.

His footsteps pause again. Birds screech through the city like the first day of goddamn spring. Yes. You will repent.

I close my eyelids and enjoy the darkness. I place the notebook on the ground. Something tells me Im through with it.

I take a deep breath. It comes in nice and smooth. My muscles relax, my body stops quaking.

Barely a tap from His boot. Thats all it takes and Im falling and wind rips at my face and nothings underneath me and no one will catch me.

That same wind turns me onto my back as I tumble, shows me one last glimpse of the Golden City, of my home.

It seems, at first glance, so peaceful.