On a Wing and A Prayer

Wacton church window

(Photo Credit: Crispina Kemp)

He was not taken to either reciting hymns or repeating incantations. His Gods resided between millions of pages in the thousands of books possessed by him. Manifesting in the myriad musty smells wafting out of the pages as he turned them over incessantly.  If he possessed a deified list, on top of its pile would sit – blasphemously – Ernest Hemingway, Ryszard Kapuscinsky, Walt Whitman, George Orwell, Feodor Dostoevsky and Aldous Huxley.

But towering above all his revered authors and their sacrosanct works, was an omnipresent and omniscient force. A tidal wave that engulfed him.  His Ash. While her presence was irresistible her absence was inexplicably magnetic. The more she went away from him the more nearer he was drawn to her.

This was the fifth day in a row he had arrived at the crack of dawn to light a candle mouthing a silent wish for her glittering future.

(Word Count: 150)

Written as part of the Crimson’s Creative Challenge #29 More details regarding this challenge may be found HERE.



5 thoughts on “On a Wing and A Prayer

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.