While

31 8 3
                                    



🍁🍁🍁
While
🍁🍁🍁


A year later, in the country of Israel, deep within Bethlehem- Judah,  the house of bread, laid a barren land, with a warm wooden house.

Elimilek lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with burdened brown eyes, releasing sighs he only allowed himself to breathe in the night time.

There was a pit in his stomach, a gnawing feeling that he hadn't gotten used to.

His tall, lanky frame was big for the bed, seeing as he had to pull his feet up, so he could receive the blankets' warmth.

On the other hand, the woman who lay next to him was exactly the opposite. She was small and plump. She curved her body into his, pulling most of the blanket to her side, breathing contentedly.

Elimilek turned to stare at her, something he'd done more times in his life than he could count.

“Naomi.” Whispering her name out like that, a tender call to her heart even though she was the deepest sleeper he knew.

“I promised you a better life than this.” His confession was met with her soft, steady breaths.

In awe of her beauty, even after twenty one years of marriage, even when she was asleep. Her long brown hair spilled down in waves, her cheeks were tinted  a natural blush, her lips soft and those eyes — the warmest of browns.

His fingers caressed the delicate skin of her cheeks. He ran his hand through her hair, a whisper of a touch.

Elimilek released another one of those deep sighs and like second instinct, like she was in tune with his soul her eyes fluttered open, and he was met with the sight of warm brown.

“Can't sleep?” She asked, concern etched on her face.

He didn't respond, except he continued to stare, he played with her hair.

“Neither can I.” She responded, herself bringing his hand to her lips and placing feathered kisses.

Elimilek’s heart dropped at her words.

Naomi had been known to sleep through storms, sleep through heartbreak and even the sound of tambourines. Sleep came  easy to her but it seemed that the famine had struck her, harder than he thought.

And who was he kidding, he felt it himself, the gnawing, twisting feeling in his gut.

Hunger kept you awake.

It was hard to sleep on a hungry stomach. Hard to think, hard to hope and to even —

“We should leave Bethlehem for a while Naomi.” Elimilek's voice was a deep resonance, something that always reverberated with certainty, which Naomi had come to adore.

“Where will we go Elimilek? The famine has struck all of Israel.”

“I wasn't talking about another place in Israel. I'm talking about Moab.”

A gasp left Naomi's lips, if she was still sleepy before, she was wide awake now. She sat up, her husband following suit, eyes wide, words sputtering out in confusion.

“Moab? Elimilek, I will not step foot on that land. Neither will I let you or my sons go there. Out of all places, Moab? Do you know the types of people that live there? The hatred they have for us, Israelites. What about —”

“Naomi, there's food in Moab. In abundance.” He paused, letting her take that in.

“I heard it in town few weeks ago, about the country of Moab. It's the land of milk and honey, my love. A promised land of some sorts. And it's not just me who's leaving for a while, many have left already.”

Ruth: Reimagined Where stories live. Discover now