Section from Leper Chapel

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This is a repost from my old blog, it’s a section from the short story, “Leper Chapel” about a small group of people who meet every week to talk about their apocalypse dreams.

       “I am at home, on the beach front, but it is not the home I remember. The forest behind where my beautiful little straw hut used to sit has been destroyed to make way for high rising concrete buildings. Cold. Uninviting. Not like my lush jungle full of tropical smells and sights. The beach is crowded with homes. Multiple levels of apartment blocks and wooden walkways linking all the buildings rise up out of the sand. I cannot even see the sky and it saddens me that my childhood memories of soft white sands and topaz waters rife with wildlife and coral has been destroyed. A minha casa, a minha bela casa. What has become of my home? What has become of my ocean? All that seems to be left of it as far as the eye can see is light grey sand and rock.
        Hundreds of people are out on the sandy waterless beach; smiling and chatting, out for their midday walks. There is excitement in the air. Something is happening out at sea and people want to see what it is. The throngs are bustling and slowly making their way out to sea to find out more and to be the first to view the amazing sight. I walk amidst them, following them all like a sheep following its flock. After walking for quite a while I see something very odd looking on the horizon. It is a small stone construct in the middle of the dry ocean. As I near the bizarre sight I see it is a small chapel. The chapel in which we now sit.
        As I near the chapel I see another amazing sight. There seem to be humanoid figures walking slowly around the building. Some of them are making their way nearer to the crowds who have stopped a few yards away from the figures. I manage to make my way through the throngs. They stand there watching the humans who are watching them back. They are ethereal beings who look so sad. As sad as I am at what has become of my home and my world. I feel them within me. I feel their pain and they in turn feel mine. They know I am near and some of them come closer to the living to try and find me. The people nearest to them fall back and a murmuring waves across the landscape, mingling with the dry arid air.
        The noise of the people around me is tremendous. It is a cacophony of so many different sounds that my head starts to pound.  I can feel the temperature rising.  Oh the heat. I can feel my face flush with warmth and I don’t know what to do to stop myself from over heating.
        The spirits suddenly start placing their hands over their ears and I can hear something else, over the noise of the people. It is a low rumbling sound, a roaring in fact and not a manmade roaring. It sounds like some kind of waterfall. Something rumbles and this time it actually moves the sand we stand on and everyone stops still. There is a moment of quiet and the spirits are starting to float towards me. Then the roaring sound becomes audible to everyone, and some people start to wail.
        Que coisa louca.  I see in the distance a huge wall of water slowly moving towards us. It creates a new horizon and people start to panic, but most of them stand still.  Silence comes to those who run and all I can do is smile. My home will be mine again. This purifying water will cleanse the islands. The spirits are now swirling around me; their faces are so full of hope and power. Their eyes seem to bore into me, overcoming my body. I let them. They fill me, possess me. I will do their bidding. The miles high tidal wave of water smashes through the people and through me, but where their bodies are crushed and obliterated, mine seems to float through the onslaught. Você vem e cai. I will have my home back.”

2 Comments Add yours

  1. redplace says:

    I really enjoyed reading this!

    Like

    1. loz says:

      Thank you for reading. I appreciate your comment. I’ll be putting more of this story up.

      Like

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