Sunday, March 27, 2022

Zipporah was free, flowering forever.

Art c/o Michelle Perez

Zipporah appraised her situation - lost, lost in the garden. She had to escape - not just the maze, but also her pursuers.

There were three paths in front of her. To her left, flowers. The path smelled like love and salvation. To her right, coffee and chicory and licorice teased her nose. Straight ahead? Rotten death and nothing good. Zipporah considered her options.

She'd been running for days at this point and wanted only to escape her pursuers. She'd run deeper and deeper into the garden. She'd been enticed by the promise of salvation or bounty or even just the minimum that might keep her alive. She was done with it.

Zipporah chose death. She walked forward. She wanted the pain to end. The stench assaulted her. Enveloped her. Absorbed her. She felt as if her flesh sloughed off her bones. Yet she walked. She walked.

It was a full three days later before she was found. She'd escaped the pain. She'd escaped the garden. She'd escaped her pursuers.

Zipporah was free, flowering forever.

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