T W O
The stench of the incense spread through the city. It was thick, filling the air with the illusion of burning smoke. In its own ethereal way, it was smooth and filled every cavity in their heads. The monks bathed through the smoke, in no shoes while they said prayers to themselves, wearing saffron cloths which draped loosely upon their dark skin, and with the help of their bald heads expressed just how much devotion or modesty was given.
Rachel imagined, as her memories awoke. The churches and chants, of golden burners, and chains tinkling loudly in a soothing rhythm under the quieter sound of swishing robes and lonely footsteps, while a hundred people try to breathe as silent as they can.
The children screamed, the metalanguage shouted, and people crunched and slurped on food, which jolts waves of annoyance through her brain, her teeth pierced her lip trying to breath deeply as the frustration builds.
She bunched her hands into fists, feeling the fingernails bite into her palm. She strutted her way through, unsuccessfully gaining control of the noise. She huffed. She walked towards a couple of vacant chairs, sighing as soon as she felt relief wash over, sinking into the small chair then kicking her feet up on another not giving a care in the world. She stared into the star scattered sky.
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Teen FictionA narrative about Rachel and the challenges she goes through with clashing cultures. She's a strong child of God and her father has a new found girlfriend that is Buddhist and well go figure. Chinese New Year. She's oh so very passionate and unas...
