Outside, a woman screams into the phone, her child in tow like a bullet in the barrel, ready as ammunition for another argument about responsibilities and parental duty. The child glances into the open doorway of the church, and while her mom crusades on, she lets her mind wander on its own labyrinth prayer walk.
Down the windy hallway and into the sanctuary, a bath of blue light from stained glass pictures of saints and martyrs. She is christened in the quiet. It's not the kind of peace she feels when her mom hangs up the phone, but the peace she feels when she drowns out the cursing and screaming long enough to read herself a story.
She is born again into the darkness and solitude, but she's unafraid, because in her sanctuary, Jesus' light shines through. His strong pose asks her to follow where he walks, and she imagines she's on water, as she steps over cracks in the sidewalk.
She weaves her mind deeper into her sanctuary as her mom's voice dangles threats in the air. She sits on velvet cushions of pews and prays, but when she looks up, she doesn't see the wispy cloths of Joseph's technicolored dreams.
All she sees is a sign over her mother's head that reads, "Think about all the hours forgotten plays were rehearsed," and she thinks of all the hours forgotten prayers were whispered.
YOU ARE READING
Fishing for Mermaids
Short StoryFishing for Mermaids is a collection of short stories about the complicated nature of desire, whether it's for a new life, a former lover, a new culture, a new look, a past experience, or even a mermaid. This collection contains stories written duri...
