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Friday, January 28, 2011

Fiction Friday, One More Time, Prologue

A good friend of mine, Lynn Squire, puts some fiction up on her blog each Friday, and I like that idea. So here I go--putting up the prologue to a book I'm working on. I call this "One More Time." If you would like to comment, critique, or whatever, have at it. My skin is rhino thick, and you will not hurt my feelings. Unless you want to, in which case I will attempt a few alligator tears.
Paulos Johnson and his mother Halena hovered on one side of three-year-old Tamara’s hospital bed while Sarah stood alone on the other side. Tamara’s fevered convulsions shook the bed. Chills racked her small body and rattled the bed between seizures, sweat soaking the sheets. The hospital staff had tried to make her more comfortable, all they could do now. The doctors, with all their tests and scans, couldn’t determine the source of the infection, nor had they affected a cure. The doctor warned they shouldn’t expect Tamara to live through another night.
Sarah’s mind kept rerunning events of the past week in the hospital. Tamara asked for her favorite toys, and one by one, she gave the toys to other children there.
That’s just like her—she always loved to give. And now my little angel child is dying, her skin so hot you’d think it could boil water. It just isn’t fair.
Sarah knew each moment of with Tamara might be the last, and then—Tamara blinked, looked at each of them with half-opened eyes, and smiled a weak greeting. She turned her gaze on something—Someone?—at the foot of her bed. Sarah turned her head in the direction of Tamara’s gaze and saw nothing. A look of pure delight widened the child’s eyes and she lifted one hand—so slightly—and then her eyes closed, her last breath soft on the sheet under her chin, the smile still on her lips.
“Nooooooo,” moaned Sarah. “Oh, please, Tammy, no.” Paul and his mother cried out in unison, turning to each other to weep in ragged sobs. Tears blinded Sarah as she bent down to gather Tamara’s limp form into her arms one last time.
This is the first installment about a woman and her husband who go from disbelief to belief, from mourning to joy, from separation to reunion.

Thoughts to ponder:
Most of us have experienced grief. How do you react to grief? Do you rely on God's comfort?
Most of us have friends who are grieving even now. How do you help? Do you give them your source of comfort?
Do you handle grief (yours or others) differently when you know God is there to help? If you are a Christian, compare how you handle it now to how you handled it before.
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