Ruth: Reimagined

Orpah

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Orpah
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REVERSED TIME...

Water blurred out the chaos in his life. Chillion immersed himself into the river, left behind, on the grass were his clothes.

It was as he rose, wet hair, whipping back that  a breath tore out of him, like the beginning of a roar.  Opening his eyes, the sight of the crescent moon, hanging over him, along with the stars scattered across the sky, made him feel insignificant. 

Wiping the drops of water, away from his eyes and brows, he walked on the rocks, embedded in the river. The water was up to his neck. The river was hidden away, surrounded by Terebinth trees and bushes, the wind's current not as strong.

It was after dunking and lifting his head that he heard something. Turning, he saw  nothing but Terebinth  trees, encompassed in the darkness of the night.

Releasing a breath, he swam further. A distance away from him, he saw movement in the water, the sound of splashing. A woman emerged from the water.  She pulled at a rope that was  tied to a  Terebinth tree and got out of the water. Her skin, a dark tinted brown, had droplets dripping down her body, and the pink dress she wore clung to her skin.

Laid on the grass, she sat still, staring at the river's water. It was then that Chillion hid behind a boulder. For a second, it felt like she'd seen him, but her expression remained calm.

He decided it was time to go home, but he didn't want to startle her, so he'd wait for her to leave. Observing her, under the moonlight, he found that she was beautiful, in the most striking ways— her black hair, dripping down her sides and forehead,  was thick, a texture he'd seen as common among the moabite people, and her eyes, a light brown. It also felt like he'd seen her before,  but before he could stare at her more intently, she got up to leave.

Chillion looked away, his gaze bashful.

Readying himself to step out of the water, Chillion saw that the direction she was heading for was where he needed to go, to get home. Sighing,he gave her about a thirty second countdown, counting in his head, the exhaustion getting to him. He slipped out of the water, hastily grabbed his clothes where he'd left them, and put them on.

As he walked back home,  past the tall Terebinth  trees, his thoughts lingered over his nights spent after work, drinking himself until oblivion. Waking up, hours later, or with a smack on his head, from a woman who wanted him to leave, disoriented. Coming back home lying to his mother, about the long working hours, then falling asleep, only to wake up, in the middle of the night, restless, and go out for a swim, to get rid of the splitting headache he had afterwards.

It had been his habit , ever since the end of Shiva, the seven days of Mourning. A  habit he's convinced himself over and over again, while enduring the pain of the hangover, that he'd never do again

Chillion, wallowed in his guilt, and shame, in the silence of the night. Unaware of the footsteps heading towards him. It was mid thought that he was pulled backward, a cold dagger placed on his throat.

"Why are you following me, you behemah?"

He recognized the Moabite slur, which meant something else in Hebrew. His heart pounding against his chest, he lifted both his hands in surrender, but the woman only further pressed her dagger on his neck, almost drawing blood.

"Speak." She demanded.

It was then that Chillion acknowledged his mistake. In the state of drowning in his  overwhelming thoughts, he forgot to work a tad bit slower so as to not bump into the woman from the river.