By N.B. Higginbottom
As soon as the pastor’s hand touched his grandfather’s forehead, he collapsed. Michael stood there frightened, yet captivated, by the old man’s bones writhing and dancing to the tune of some far-away soundtrack as wordless syllables flooded from his mouth. He braced himself as their eyes met, expecting the red glow of some godforsaken monster, but what he saw was something entirely different—fear.
The pastor finally spoke, “Behold! The glory and power of God! In Jesus’ name we pray, amen!”
The two stared into each other’s divided thoughts. Michael swallowed his words, knowing only one of them had found enlightenment.
Great imagery. And it’s not difficult to decided which of the two characters remained unenlightened! (I’ll never tell!).
Lovely, haunting little tale. Cerebral, but atmospheric. That last line is a killer.
My love for this knows no bounds. Well done. Oh, well done.