Gloaming

Dax, the black lab that had followed my dad home three years ago and refused to leave, led the way through the forest, gingerly setting his paw down as if testing the validity of the path, as if verifying that this is the route to take. The tree canopy, knit together above our heads, shut out the last of the evening light, so that it grew darker the deeper we went into the forest. Dax paused from time to time and looked over his shoulder at me, to be sure that I was still not far behind, and his dark fur melted into the tenebrous foliage so that I was following the sound of his footfalls and the periodic glint of his eyes.

Dax and I hadn’t come to the forest together since the afternoon of his arrival. I had pleaded with my dad to let him stay and, fearing that he would take him despite our determined protests, we had retreated into these woods, running together through brush and clamoring over fallen trees, passing in and out of the narrow shafts of sunlight that shot through the thick canopy overhead. Dax barked happily, almost seemed to laugh, scaring up birds and squirrels as we went on forging our own path. Then, suddenly, we both stopped, surprised by a small clearing. Broken dishes, clothes strewn across the grass, remnants of a fire, signs of a struggle. Here the sun shone bright and yellow. We turned and ran home, sober, silent, and Dax hadn’t left my side since.

Now, three years later, in the gloaming we knew what we could only guess in the daylight: that it was in the shadows, in the deep crevices of those shadows, that the truth of our little corner of the world would be revealed.

Advertisements

Tetralogy

Habakkuk. Such a short book, with such big ideas. 

Tess has tried to stop thinking about the Bible when she’s not specifically supposed to be doing so, when she’s not in Sunday School or sitting in a church pew, but so far she has not been successful. Somehow the contents of the Bible–and not just the well-known tetralogy at the beginning of the New Testament–have been zooming around in her head, filling it up with text and theology and commentary. She wondered if it were always going to be this way, if it were pointless to try and stop the total takeover of religious tomes in the library of her mind.