How Can Friendship Best Serve? (Bedelia’s back😊)

six-sentence-stories

I don’t know how Denise comes by her prompts, but they’re always Excellent!  This week she’s given us “SERVICE” to ponder, and here’s the link so you can learn more about her Six Sentence Stories weekly challenge, and join the FUN:  https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2021/03/24/its-six-sentence-story-thursday-link-up-152/

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70-ish Finn Canter had somewhat regressed to the dejected restless state of a 16-year-old boy suffering unrequited love; he’d hoped to become engaged to Bedelia Cornell on Valentine’s Day, but the elegant diamond ring he’d purchased remained in its black velveteen box, buried in his neatly-matched-socks drawer…waiting for the green light.

Having studied her almost a year and knowing caution was crucial, he’d made broad hints, skirted gently (he thought) around the topic of marriage—and was yet to discover turn of phrase which would be the key fitting her heart’s intricate lock.

His brother James softly scolded, “You’re forgetting she’s not a woman fond of change, Bro—marriage IS a major transition for someone who’s lived contentedly single for 40 years…far longer than you’ve been widowed.”

Finn bit his impatience in half: “I realize that—the deadlock seems to be the idea of leaving her faded cracker box to move into my home; who wouldn’t prefer greater space with brighter ambiance?—she can have 2 spare bedrooms to hide in when she needs time alone; James, she once said she believed we could talk about anything…where’s the lost trust?”

“Finn—some birds are more comfortable in smaller nests, your place is marvelous but hers is familiar; and it may not be ‘space issues’ only…maybe she’s fearful about intimacy—her ex-husband sounds like a tyrant; if you really love her, why not gladly accept generous, affectionate friendship offered—some day, she might propose to you“; James sighed… “I’ll call and ask if she still intends to help serve luncheon, following Easter services.”

Meanwhile, Bedelia was fretting while she vigorously scrubbed her kitchen as though The Lord’s return might be that very day; she knew Finn was unhappy: she’d had the brothers over for a fine St Paddy’s dinner and, unlike their many shared meals of garrulous frivolity—the dearth of conversation made the clink of forks on her lovely seashell plates sound loud as a death knell; “Oh, dear Jesus…what to do, what to do?”

©Zelda Rene, 2021 ~ All rights reserved.

Journey Continues

Denise’s prompt this week: FILTER

https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2021/03/17/its-six-sentence-story-thursday-link-up-151/

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Early morning mist filtered the sun which failed to soften her mother’s words, spoken through lips pulled taut with frightened tension:  ‘Avia, promise me you’ll paint a grateful smile over your usual glum face—you’re not a child anymore, and might yet marry; don’t you realize your bad attitude could bring a curse on us all?”

Offering a silently compliant half-smile, Avia stretched, began to dress; her mother was afraid, unnerved by recent violent events—complaining was no minor offense, it was judged ‘contempt, lack of trust, rebellion, disobedience’…sin.

Punishment was swift: ten scouts who brought back negative reports were struck dead by plague, two more plagues killed 14,700 and 24,000 respectively; 250 followers of those who’d instigated a conspiracy against the exodus leaders were consumed in fire; and to everyone’s shocked horror the earth split open to swallow primary insurrectionists whole, alive (now erased from collective memory); snakebite fatalities were likely a “testing”, but made one just as dead.

As Avia stepped into the day she saw a cluster of men, heads bent in somber discussion; then she glimpsed Phinehas, Joshua and the handsome Caleb, who caught her eye and approached—his grin a thousand unfiltered sunbeams released from sculpted lips.

Her chin dropped demurely at his pleasant greeting, but she said nothing until his continued interest prompted her to fumble a few words: “I’m worried the cloud of Glorious Presence will descend again, that God remains angry and will send further plagues, or pestilence as my father speculated.”

“You needn’t be concerned,” he said, his companions’ nods conveying agreement; “God’s unfailing love is true—He freed us from slavery, provides for our every need on this journey to a beautiful land He’s already prepared; our two leaders are exemplary men—despite the riffraff’s jealous criticism which cost them their lives; we have hope now, a wonderful future—why wouldn’t we worship God alone, who requires that we not balk at statutes given for our wellbeing; prideful, dissatisfied murmurers have cause to fear, not us”—(privately she pondered if what he described, the “us”, could mean ‘her with him’).

©Zelda Rene, 2021 ~ All rights reserved.

On the Journey

Denise’s prompt this week is “JOURNEY”—do visit her to read fabulous posts, and quotations that make you ponder.  Write a 6-Sentence Story, you’ll be hooked—join us! 🙂  Link:  https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2021/03/10/its-six-sentence-story-thursday-link-up-150/

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And so she left her personal Egypt, the familiar bondage she’d been born into; (they were rescued, her mother’s face begged her to accept)—led from a harsh, predictable enslavement to who-knew-where.

Life was day-and-night wilderness, and crowded camp of strangers (some related to her) who stared as though she differed from them in unfathomable ways; wellshe was different…from birth, invisibly marked an outcast, a scapegoat; (but her late grandmother had whispered that she was marked, yes—for blessed purpose).

A milk-and-honeyed ‘promised land’, she’d overheard…that was their destination; so, why did the journey feel as intimidating and oppressive as the home she’d left…not quite frightening, yet cast in pallor of anxious dread?

One man was the same as the next (grim, formidable, to be obeyed not crossed); and the women, without variation—standing back submissively, muted gray powerlessness glazing their eyes; all liars, the lot of them—there was no future, it was gilded denial, a useless mantra to push them into another wilderness ahead.

A scouting expedition had brought mixed reports—some enthused about the peculiar abundance discovered: grape clusters twice the size of average men’s heads, and more lush fruit varieties; but most scouts were terrified—there would be battles before bounty; rumors murmured there was a split…some might turn back, or go their own direction.

She lay in the tent, pondering…her brothers were favored ones, joyful adventurers high on aerated speculations about something called a covenant promise; unmarried, she’d still and ever be a slave…barring a miracle, a genuine Savior.

©Zelda Rene, 2021 ~ All rights reserved.

In Theory…

Denise’s prompt:  THEORY

In theory, most people reach an age of maturity when they can measure and appreciate what’s reasonable, realistic—as opposed to what is not—and act accordingly.

Not her…she’d nursed the fantasy since childhood, and at thirty-five, by gum she was going to make it come true regardless that it was unmitigatedly insane (such is denial’s power).

She had no money, yet magically a credit card with an audacious available credit limit appeared in her hand; soon she was on a plane, then briefly settled in a hotel room, and next, riding in a taxi to the luxurious address where the ageing love of her life resided…in a “whole nuther world”.

‘Hard to believe’, she thought…no locked gates or guard dogs…the lone security employee smiled her way as though any attractive professional-appearing young woman, wearing tasteful floral dress and carrying black leather briefcase, had authorized access.

Neither was there keypad to punch in a code—she just walked in and made the mile-long, trembling-knees trek to the end of the plush-carpeted corridor where “his” elegant door to the corner suite was located; as she pressed the button which elicited melodious chimes, and waited…boulder of revelation finally crashed upon her that this journey, for all its suspect simplicity, was likely a very bad idea, would not end well but calamitously—inside her head she screamed, “why didn’t someone, something stop me??!!”

He spoke to her through the closed door, pretending he was a servant who’d relay her message—(fool! she’d have recognized his well-modulated voice even if she were deaf); he kindly directed her to leave her gifts out in the hall, and in that same beloved voice politely sent her away—her voluminous letters had meant nothing, she meant nothing to him.

©Zelda Rene, 2021 ~ All rights reserved.

https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2021/03/03/its-six-sentence-story-thursday-link-up-149/