“You may not always see us, but you must always know we’re there.”
Something remarkable buzzes the few hairs growing in the canal ending with the drum of Sister Etty’s good ear, something which sounds so archaically familiar that she gets the urge to jump for joy like when she was a young girl and the Sisters of days passed brought the children into the field behind St. Wuester’s Church so they could frolic about and smell the flowers. She hobbles spiritedly out of the office behind the pulpit, hoping she didn’t spill any unsightly drops of the leftover Communion wine on her habit, and stops in the middle of the aisle between the pews to make sure she wasn’t hearing things.
As it turns out, she was not.
“Sisters!” Etty cries out with jubilant glee. “Betty and Letty, where are you my Sisters?”
On the second floor, Sister Betty leaves the clothing room and walks to the railing, meeting Sister Letty there. They wave at each other from across the gap, as they’ve both been working since they woke up this morning and had yet to actually see one another.
“Do you hear it, Sisters?!” Sister Etty sings like a choir of angels from down in the Prayerway.
Letty shoots Betty a look that seems to ask if Etty got into the Communion wine again, and Betty suppresses a giggle that neither confirms nor denies as much. Sister Etty begins to twirl around in happy circles below them, oblivious with bliss.
“What is it, Sister Etty my dearest?” Sister Letty asks, wondering how many days it will be until the last time in her life she says dearest. “What should we be hearing?”
Sister Etty stops her twirling then, cupping one hand around her left ear pointed at the entrance to the church. Betty and Letty suddenly feel a knot tie itself in each of their stomachs.
Then John bangs his knuckles on the heavy wooden doors again. Then all three Sisters begin to twirl, only to stop when Sister Etty finally answers the door. Then the Sisters Three meet John Kerry of the Ashen Wasteland in the Prayerway of St. Wuester’s Church.
And then they’re all dancing, dancing like they never want to stop.
Hello Commons, this has been the first subchapter of the last chapter of Flowers, a novel about a man who smokes the last of his pot.
Flowers is part of the Third Spiral, an anthology of sorts called The Here and Now which is comprised of stories told from the various planes of Existence.
Flowers is available to read for free in its entirety on my website. Click here to check it out.
I’ve written a few other books, too. Click here to see the list.
If you like Flowers and would like to help support my work, click here and buy an autographed copy of the book (or anything else!) from my store. Alternatively, you can snag a cheaper (and unsigned) copy from Amazon by clicking here.
Be well Commons~