Cavaliers -dressed in red, white and blue. Bayonetes at there side, standing to attention on the old church stage. Crowds and crowds of blissful people.
Slowly they gather their voices as one as they chant "the war is over" and rising and kneeing like my chest. My Dad is next to me. Tonight we will commerate the end of WW1, singing praises to God. "Hallelujah", the Lord has provided. He has brought voices to the meek in heart and mind, to the strong he lifted them out of poverty and gave them purpose.
Prayers rise up towards the roof. We pray for the countries, for the deliverance of people from evil and that God would help those walking through the "shadow" of death.
That's exactly what death is isn't it? A shadow -black, you can see it but can't grasp it. You can shine light on it (happiness) and pretend it's not there, but as true as the breath in my lungs, it will soon follow.
YOU ARE READING
Dream
General FictionA story sprung out of a place of discomfort and trying to make sense of losing my Dad.
