Darren
glared at his wife and vicious words slipped and slid off his tongue. “That’s
it Donna, I’ll be back tomorrow and by then maybe you’ll sleep some sense into
your thick head.”
He grabbed
his parka from the corner closet nestled in the entryway of their home and
burst out the front door slamming it shut. Not having the parka’s hood
over his head the slamming door caused freshly fallen snow to slip off the
porch roof and down his neck.
Darren looked
for steam escaping from under his shirt and parka collars. He thought about
laughing, but that would ruin this self-righteous moment.
In a few
swift man-strides he reached the main sidewalk and turned right, but he turned
too sharply. His foot slipped on the slick surface, but he caught his balance
before he fell.
He stopped
and pondered the last few moments. The words uttered, the snow down his neck,
and then almost falling. “Oh well, such is life.”
Letting his
feet play GPS he passed “Shoppers Delight”, a small suburban mall. “Ok nose,
find where that smell of cinnamon roll and coffee is coming from.” He found the
scent factory and slipped into a booth.
A waitress soon faced him with order pad and pen.
“Just a cinnamon roll and a cup of coffee.
“Cream with
your coffee?”
“Naa, black,
and I want the roll that I smelled outside on the sidewalk; the one that
wouldn’t let me walk by without stopping.
“Sure
enough, I’ve been saving it for you since the day before yesterday.”
“Wow, you’re
like the weather tonight, very sharp.”
She smiled
and went to get his treats.
Darren
noticed a wrinkled newspaper lying next to him. He started to pick it up but
decided he didn’t want to read anymore about the presidential election.
“Here’s your
roll and coffee, enjoy.”
He bit into
the roll. Its warmth and softness slipped across his tongue. It reminded him of
Donna. Her softness followed by the warmth of her arms around his neck.
Putting the
last of his daydream into his mouth he followed it with hot coffee that slid down his esophagus. He left a $10 bill on the table and ventured outside to
tonight’s life of cold loneliness.
Darren saw a
“Vacancy” sign a couple blocks away, which was a flashing advertisement for his
bed that night.
He looked
around the room; the sparsely furnished nook matched the moment. “Why did I say
those things to Donna? They were out before I even knew they were in.”
He grabbed
the remote and flipped through the channel guide; he turned it off “I can see
this junk at home, with somebody.”
Darren lay in
the bed; it felt huge. He stretched out one arm and felt nothing but empty
vastness. He extended his other arm, but, this time, his hand touched something
lying on the bedside stand.
He lifted
his head and looked. The words Holy Bible scorched his eyes and his reflexes
deflected his hand off the Bible and back to the safety of the bed.
Lying there,
his nerve and inquisitiveness prevailed and he reached out and put his finger
on the Bible. Then he sat up on the edge of the bed and gingerly picked it up.
He opened it
to the title page; it, too, said Holy Bible.
He flipped a
page and found an index, then an introduction to the Bible, and a section about
how the Bible came into existence. Then he came to Genesis 1:1 and read it out
loud. “In the beginning God created the heavens and earth.”
Darren laid
his hand on the page and then turned it over to look at his palm. No burns,
except for the one in his heart.
Slipping
into the depth of the pages he began to read, genealogies and all. About an
hour later he looked up and descriptive phrases slipped off his tongue headed
for his heart.
“I didn’t
think it would taste that good; it’s full of flavor, satisfying, aromatic. Its
words were smooth, sweet and sour, smelling like life. They soothed my ears and
were soft to my eyes.”
Jesus Christ
walked Darren home that night. Darren rang the bell and Donna opened the door.
He responded to her with a special seasoning that allowed the delicious taste
of Christianity to effortlessly slip off his tongue.
Scripture
from the NASB
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