#Fiction Friday: #Novelines from the Book

Mormoni

Mother was celebrating membership in the Church, whereas David & I were celebrating that we would be a family again. There was that word. Again.

Mother had mineral water, David & I, a little champagne—a Mardi Gras before Lent. But when was a Mormon’s Lent? None such existed, for the life of a Mormon was one of continuous abstinence.

Caitlin wasn’t with us, & I realized I’d forgotten all about my baby sister. She still belonged with us, for hadn’t she always before?

Mother & David were at Maxwell Manor, spending a romantic (but sinless) evening as an engaged couple; I was in his studio, where she’d never been.

Everyone had a purpose in this life, divine or otherwise, yet I thought it strange some believed their only purpose was getting to the next.

“Before the clock ticks thrice, you will have denied me 3 times,” she said, going back to her chat, as if I had been there not at all.

She looked back at us once, giving us a strange sort of smile—that androgynous Mona Lisa smile again—as if she held a delicious secret.

We often married the people we did based on the order in which we met them. Our lives were a deck of cards, the real story not in the cards we were dealt, but the order in which they were dealt.

I never understood how one could be washed in the Blood of the Lamb—how it would cleanse us from our scarlet sins so we were white again when blood was the one thing at a crime scene that could never be washed away.

He told me he would be home in 6 weeks. If only he had come right back for me, the rest of my life would’ve never happened.

 

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#Fiction Friday: #Novelines from the Book

mormoni

The distinguished-looking man sat with the woman who would pull the thread that would help me come apart at the seams through an unholy act.

Sister Wiley wore a mask of syrupy sweetness, but the mask didn’t cover her eyes that emitted a cold, calculating glare.

Glancing in Sister Wiley’s direction I saw, as she looked at Mother, something that resembled fear, for Mother’s new faith overshone her old one.

Like the kapps Mennonite women wore, both sexes wore sacred garments under their clothes, where only God could see them.

Mother had never had any use for girlfriends before, & I wondered why she had let Sister Wiley choose to be hers.

I saw something in Elder Roberts then that I often saw in David: tolerance; but it would fail him when I needed it most.

Sister Wiley watched us from across the room, plucking a prune from a pewter platter & taking a bite, smiling that Mona Lisa smile.

David wanted me to go to University, but the Relief Society (or, as Caitlin said, the Sisterhood of the Raveling Dresses) had me rethinking such an endeavor.

The day our Little Miss stopped being a drama princess was the day we would know her personality had finally split.

I’d never seen our secular, nuclear family as isolated, but rather insulated from the world. The Mormons made me see that we were the world.

Poem-a-Day Writer’s Digest Challenge #4. Theme: Once Upon a (blank)

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Once Upon The Starry Night

In Christina’s World many moons ago,
there lived a girl by the name of Mona Lisa.
Mona Lisa was born of The Kiss,
in a pond of Water Lilies—
a pure birth—
and so much was made of her being the Goddess
in the Flesh.

Mona Lisa possessed the Persistence of Memory—
time was made fluid.
Through her marriage to Father Time,
she became Mother Earth,
birthing a biological clock that never stopped ticking.

Three Musicians came from the West
in that period
since The Creation of Adam
proclaiming another Savior,
but Mona Lisa,
enraged,
waged a war on men.

Through man-made climate change,
through wars and rumors of wars,
she turned her world into a ruin,
for there were no more men to provide
for the women—
there were only vessels,
but no seed to plant in them.

Father Time,
seeing the rapid decay,
sent her away;
for Time took its time,
allowing the natural order of things.

Father Time turned her into a rapidly aging man,
so that her days would not be long upon the Earth,
and she was exiled to Golgotha
for her crimes against humanity.

And twas at The Last Supper,
that Mona Lisa knew He was the One—
that no power on Earth came to any
but through Him.
He had allowed her to carry out His work,
for wicked had been her people,
but now she had to pay as Judas.

There were The Three Crosses—
one for Him,
one for another,
one for her.
She was that other robber,
for she’d robbed others of breath.

But in His infinite mercy,
God chose to use her once again,
and turned her into the moon—
the moon that glowed,
rather than the sun that burned.
She was known from then on
as The Girl with the Pearl Earring—
a nameless being—
for eternity.

She is the demon that has control over the waters,
and when her anger is kindled,
there is a tidal wave of environmental calamity—
causing a form of mass baptism.

However, from then on,
Nature itself—
no superpower in Heaven or on Earth—
would ever control the weather,
for the rain falls on the just and the unjust.