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Personal blog of christian
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(No Title)He's lost his place, I thought. Doug had taken his Bible and his mug of coffee to the porch, for a few minutes of calm in the early morning mist. I saw him through the window, saw the cup with the sepia pocketwatch printed on its side, saw his face leaning into the book opened on his lap. Did time stand still? Just then our daughter appeared in a flurry, running late, needing him to help her attach a bike rack to her car, but not asking. He left his open Bible and, unbidden, went to her. The Wind picked up a bit, stirring the pages, gently at first, and then with a rush. Turning them one at a time, five at a time, whole chapters and books at a time, finally dying down and settling at a new page, a new verse. The secondhand on the pocketwatch had gained no ground, nor lost any, either. Doug kissed her and sent her off, picked up the book again, and began to read. He's found his place, I thought, and then found my own book, and sat down in the Breeze of an open window.
Posted by Katy on 08/13/02 at 01:46 PM
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