I feel Him kiss my brow, a chill weight on my forehead. In the kiss is absolution, yes, but understanding as well. Understanding that it is He I serve, not the convent. His divine spark lives within me, a presence that will never leave. And I am but one of the many tools he has at his disposal. If I cannot act--if I refuse to act--that is a choice I am allowed to make. He has given me life, and all I must do to serve Him is live. Fully and with my whole heart.
R.L. LaFeversThis is what I want to be. An instrument of mercy, not vengeance.
R.L. LaFeversHe barks out a laugh. "My little rebel.
R.L. LaFeversHis divine spark lives within me, a presence that will never leave. And I am but one of many tools He has at His disposal. If I cannot act - if I refuse to act - that is a choice I am allowed to make. He has given me life, and all I must do to serve Him is to live. Fully and with my whole heart. With this knowledge comes a true understanding of all the gifts He has given me.
R.L. LaFeversAnd so it is with us; we serve as handmaidens to Death. When we are guided by His will, killing is a sacrament.
R.L. LaFevers... then he offers me his arm. As I take it, I wonder what folly decreed that women cannot walk unassisted.
R.L. LaFeversTags: humor
Do you need anything before I go?
I want you to return my wits, I long to say.
Why be the lamb when you can be the lion?
R.L. LaFeversTags: vengence
He does not start guiltily, as he should, but frowns in annoyance. "Who are you?"
I slip my hand through the slit of my overskirt, and my fingers close around the hard wood of the crossbow tiller. "Vengeance," I say softly.
People hear and see what they expect to hear and see.
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