This is an excerpt from a tale I had lost hope in a while ago. I thought maybe by posting it I would find other forms of inspiration, or perhaps receive brilliance from alert readers. This is more miscellaneous than anything, hope you enjoy!

 

Out in her garden, Arabella could see the expanse of the mountains filling the space beneath the stars. There were so many constellations that night that illuminated little bushes of grass and bits of snow. Then when she would gaze farther away, she could witness the vastness of the mountains all behind each other in beautiful disarray. There was a heavy quiet when she held her breath and listened to what God had created so meticulously – and it was a predetermined quiet, made not to upset the wonderful balance of flowing animals and wind. The mountains and bushes would speak, the wind would whisper, and the sky would pray. Arabella loved coming out on nights like these – and there was nothing more serene to her than listening to the sound of creatures worshipping their Creator. Somedays she would sit and pray with them – and on other days she would observe and learn from them.

            The world as she knew it was a racing thing. It was a creation that knew much more than she ever would, and that ignorance was beautiful. There was wisdom in her lack of awareness that she couldn’t find an origin in with anything else – it was only in the earth’s race to the end of the universe that gave her life a finite definite meaning. And that meaning didn’t have to be a course to be followed, it didn’t need to be understood by others, it only needed to be present. It needed to exist within her soul as heavily as a rock would ground itself in a moving river. Arabella’s soul was strong that night. She felt the energy of that strength surging through her as the wind leapt beside her gently. She breathed it in and expanded her smile, then she thanked her Lord for that blessing.

            “Bella!” she heard her mother call from the backyard doors.

            She knew that meant it was time to return. Her heart waved goodbye to the mountains momentarily and a bittersweet depart it truly was for her.

            “I’ll be back,” she promised with a whisper. And then through the doors of her house she entered.

            “So, how was that interview today?” Arabella’s mom spoke quietly tonight as her fork clinked with the glass plate.

            Arabella nodded as she swallowed a small amount of food, “Good. She only asked me one question.”

            The mom swallowed, sighed then gave her daughter a slight nod, “She always asks one question.”

Published by Fatimah Badawy