Sarah's Canticle by Patrick Sean Lee (best interesting books to read txt) π
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Sarah Liebowitz, artist and mystic genius, plans to take a step into eternity by creating her latest work of impossible proportions.
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- Author: Patrick Sean Lee
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yard, two, perhaps three beyond the face of the cliff. We stood in absolute silence for what seemed an eternity, but was more likely mere seconds. She looked up at me, perhaps pleading for me to believe in the hallucination she had given life to. Her gaze pierced me, as it was always wont to do, capturing me again.
βWe havenβt much time, dearest Michael. Here is your bridgeβour bridge. Come with me.β Sarah stepped off the ledge of rock into the emptiness lying beneath the beginning of the celestial roadway. Her right hand held my left, outstretched, gently urging me to follow. I took a step, testing the air beyond the cliff with the toe of my shoe, much the same as I had done a thousand times at the edge of the water far below in bare feet. My foot sank. I jerked it back to the safety of land, and in so doing lost hold of her hand. I teetered backward, but gained my balance again in time to see her shaking her head sadly.
βHurry. Do it, Michael. Come with me.β
βItβs not real!β
βCome with me! Take hold of my hand again!β
βItβs notβ¦I canβt!β
Sarah looked at me for a second or two, and then turned and walked past the shimmering anchorage. She glanced over her shoulder one last time, and then continued on alone.
βSarah!β
βWe havenβt much time, dearest Michael. Here is your bridgeβour bridge. Come with me.β Sarah stepped off the ledge of rock into the emptiness lying beneath the beginning of the celestial roadway. Her right hand held my left, outstretched, gently urging me to follow. I took a step, testing the air beyond the cliff with the toe of my shoe, much the same as I had done a thousand times at the edge of the water far below in bare feet. My foot sank. I jerked it back to the safety of land, and in so doing lost hold of her hand. I teetered backward, but gained my balance again in time to see her shaking her head sadly.
βHurry. Do it, Michael. Come with me.β
βItβs not real!β
βCome with me! Take hold of my hand again!β
βItβs notβ¦I canβt!β
Sarah looked at me for a second or two, and then turned and walked past the shimmering anchorage. She glanced over her shoulder one last time, and then continued on alone.
βSarah!β
***
A week has passed. I stand at the cliff, ignoring Henry Island, the smashing of the waves below, Ireland far, far away. A pall of gray clouds has descended, driven by an angry storm bearing down on me from the north. I am aware of none of thisβ¦nothing, really, only searching for Sarah in the ever-blowing wind, as though in its frozen touch she will reappear and bring me back to sanity.
Butβ¦I know Iβm empty, empty as the wind.
βEmpty As The Windβ Grayson Hugh. Thank you for permission to use the title of this amazing song, Grayson.
Text: (c) Patrick Sean lee, 2011
Publication Date: 07-24-2011
All Rights Reserved
Dedication:
With deepest thanks to Grayson Hugh
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