Toura’s Wind: “The Dream”

Each week, I will publish Micro-pieces of Toura’s Wind, so stay tuned for the next one when done! “‘The wind breathes where it wills, and though you hear its sound, yet you neither know where it comes from nor where it is going. So it is with everyone who is born of The Spirit. ‘“– Jesus (John 3:8)

As if she were already here, the stage was set.  The sun a piercing yellow. The sky azure. A perfect blue.  The trees, a lush green. A simple play yard poised before her in a silent, portentous town.  No children scampering about or squealing at the delight of a chase.  No dogs barking. No birds chirping. No sound of life.

The air . . . still, stagnant . . . strange.

Now two, she and another were standing as the observation formed into a conversation.

“Where are the people?  Maybe it is too hot for them to be out.”

Another, the squat little man, reluctantly shook his head in disagreement to the tall swarthy woman as she stood surveying the town.

His pause gave the woman concern as she turned to look down at him.  Her skin chilled – though the air remained balmy and still – the silence was eerie.

“This is why you are here,” the man began with a hint of fear in his voice.

“Everyone is gone. So many strange things have been happening, houses have been literally torn apart and people have been killed,” he continued.  “But you … (…to be continued …)