Up to 6171 words
Lost pace yesterday. That comes of going out. Shopping. Concerts. They all take their toll out of writing time.
Yesterday's excerpt:
Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap. Tanis was feeding the chickens when she felt it. A little knock on her soul.
She listened. She pulled into herself to find out where it was coming from.
The chickens stopped their clucking and scratching and watched her, dead quiet, as though in a spell of stillness.
Tanis listened. Someone was trying to contact her. That was clear. But who? And why? It made no sense.
She looked around. Nobody nearby. Not on the farm, then. It did feel quite far away. But wait. She relaxed into the feeling, to strengthen it. There was more than one. And the second... She breathed a deep sigh. A feeling of such longing and such desire filled her soul. She stood silently, among the super naturally quiet chickens, just bonding, just feeling, caught up in a wave of love that engulfed her.
The feeling slipped away, slowly, carefully. The chickens erupted around her. She scattered the last of the broken bread, then left the coop, carefully closing the gate behind her.
Only then did she cross herself and fall onto her knees. She felt such a sense of loss when the tap left. Dear God, what had just happened to her? Was that an angel talking? Or was it the worst temptation of all? No, she thought, with that love and that longing it must be the touch of Christ. It had changed her, though. She felt unsettled. Her safe known world was suddenly shaken. She struggled to control the unreasonable panic rising in her.
What did Christ want of her? She did the only thing she knew. She went into the house and opened her Holy Bible, randomly, praying for guidance.
The words burned on the page in front of her.
"Thus a married woman is by law bound to her husband while he lives, and when her husband dies, she is freed from the marriage law." Romans 7. Verse 2.
A chill shivered through her body, raising goosebumps. What could this mean? She wasn't married. She couldn't marry. If it weren't for the healing hands of the priests and Christ's eternal love for her, she would be long dead.
And yet she suddenly felt bound in marriage. To Christ? To someone dead?
She wrote out the text carefully, in an ancient calligraphic script, treating the words of God with the respect they deserved. But she drew the initial T, large and ornate, with flowers and birds decorating the square which held it.
T.
That mysterious tap had called her T.
Yesterday's excerpt:
Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap. Tanis was feeding the chickens when she felt it. A little knock on her soul.
She listened. She pulled into herself to find out where it was coming from.
The chickens stopped their clucking and scratching and watched her, dead quiet, as though in a spell of stillness.
Tanis listened. Someone was trying to contact her. That was clear. But who? And why? It made no sense.
She looked around. Nobody nearby. Not on the farm, then. It did feel quite far away. But wait. She relaxed into the feeling, to strengthen it. There was more than one. And the second... She breathed a deep sigh. A feeling of such longing and such desire filled her soul. She stood silently, among the super naturally quiet chickens, just bonding, just feeling, caught up in a wave of love that engulfed her.
The feeling slipped away, slowly, carefully. The chickens erupted around her. She scattered the last of the broken bread, then left the coop, carefully closing the gate behind her.
Only then did she cross herself and fall onto her knees. She felt such a sense of loss when the tap left. Dear God, what had just happened to her? Was that an angel talking? Or was it the worst temptation of all? No, she thought, with that love and that longing it must be the touch of Christ. It had changed her, though. She felt unsettled. Her safe known world was suddenly shaken. She struggled to control the unreasonable panic rising in her.
What did Christ want of her? She did the only thing she knew. She went into the house and opened her Holy Bible, randomly, praying for guidance.
The words burned on the page in front of her.
"Thus a married woman is by law bound to her husband while he lives, and when her husband dies, she is freed from the marriage law." Romans 7. Verse 2.
A chill shivered through her body, raising goosebumps. What could this mean? She wasn't married. She couldn't marry. If it weren't for the healing hands of the priests and Christ's eternal love for her, she would be long dead.
And yet she suddenly felt bound in marriage. To Christ? To someone dead?
She wrote out the text carefully, in an ancient calligraphic script, treating the words of God with the respect they deserved. But she drew the initial T, large and ornate, with flowers and birds decorating the square which held it.
T.
That mysterious tap had called her T.
posted by cyberjanet at 5:26 AM
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