Week 4 of TheInkWell Fiction Challenge Summer 2020
Image by Paul Brennan from Pixabay
Series Title: Our Thirteen Sonatas
Week 1: A Star Burns Bright as It Collides
Week 2: Ghost of the Past
Week 3: A Sorry Tale of Woe
In this life, I’ve chosen to lead a simpler way of living by joining the lay ministry. Now as a layman, I was then chosen to serve in the small town of Dunesdale. After their own clergyman had passed on, I accepted my new responsibility with no qualms and no sooner than later was deployed.
The town of Dunesdale, as I later found out for myself, was full of quite.. the peculiar type of people—it wasn’t in the warm welcome the town had greeted me with, complete with a town’s feast, nor was it the townspeople’s diligent attendance to my Sunday lectures—no, it wasn’t that. It was just something I couldn’t quite point a finger on, as if something was buried beneath its surface like if I could just scratch a little deeper, maybe something that could end up being a thorn to my side..
“Pastor Hopkins! I’ve come for your guidance! I deeply apologize for not having attended your lecture last Sunday..”
I stopped walking on my way back to my humble abode and turned around to see a bright-eyed young girl, not older than 16 perhaps, looking up at me with her pair of blue doe-eyes. I scrambled my mind to pinpoint who this young blonde was amidst the majority of blonds in the town of Dunesdale, before my eyes spotted the beauty mark under her left eye, I gave her a sincere smile then and acknowledged her apology.
“Ah Lolita.. Please don’t burden yourself too much with it. I’m sure the young these days have other sorts of activities they find themselves more interested in.”
I nodded at her kindly as I began to take my leave but she timidly took hold of my shirt sleeve and quietly told me, “Please Pastor.. I really insist on having that lecture of yours..” She didn’t quite meet my eyes as she said that and I could only inwardly sigh to myself before I let her follow me to my house.
Laying a cup of tea in front of her, I then made my way to the armchair across from her and settled down to prepare for my lecture—only to be taken by surprise when she promptly stood up and purposely made her way towards me before she straddled me from where I sat, “Lolita!—”
She shushed me with a finger to my lips as her other hand began to trail down from my chest, “Pastor.. Our town is happy to have a young, virile man like yourself to serve us.. We maidens decided to offer ourselves to you in gratitude..”
Suddenly Lolita was timid no more, and just as she started to take hold of my belt buckle, I then found the strength to grip her by her arms before I pushed her off me.
I ran from my house then—I ran fast and unseeing, not really knowing where I was headed—until my legs gave out on me. I hunched over and gripped my knees as I took in deep gulps of air, the only thing that made me aware of my surroundings was the sound of bleating.
I looked up then and saw a herd of goats surrounding the meadow I was in. I roved my eyes around this unfamiliar place and only took notice of the goat nearest me—its beady eyes stared up at me as it continued to chew—before it gave out a loud bleat and turned away from me and seemed to be heading for something.
My eyes followed its trail before I noticed the quaint little house uphill, but what really caught my eye was the woman who stared at me from her porch—she had fiery red hair and something about her seemed to pull me close—and I knew what it was the moment I saw her eyes up close.
Her eyes belonged to the ghost of my past—my soulmate across these lifetimes I’ve had.
I smiled at her slightly, unsure whether I felt familiar to her as she was with me, but the moment she smiled back at me, I knew we made a connection.
But yet again, it was not made to last.
“Kill the witch! She has tainted our beloved Pastor! Burn the seductress!”
I heard the rabid shouts from the townspeople of Dunesdale from outside. I felt the hot flames lick my skin as they set her house on fire but here I was, beside her as I held her limp body close, the blood flowing from her chest seeping into my clothes.
I kissed the top of her head, closing my eyes and remembering the weeks we managed to sneak in with each other before the people of Dunesdale started spreading nasty rumors—lies that the fanatics took to heart—I would have taken her away from this place, ended my servitude to the Word in exchange for a life with her. Except the Fates didn’t want that and here we were again—two lost souls.
The last thing I was aware of was the sound of the house’s wooden roof giving in as I made one last mental defiance.
Let the Fates decide what would happen to us next.
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Documenting my life's journey:
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I started a series since October 2018...
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