Morning sun warms. Fog lifts. The drip…drip…drip…of the mist spattering the cave floor calls Isaac to wake.
This dawn he prays, “Lord of creation, grant me wisdom, knowledge and understanding. Bring me low that you are seen through me. Change this if you will. But if not, not thy will but yours be done.”
Then, for the first time in seven years, footsteps berated the forest floor. Men of the village had come to summon the hermit.
The priest said, “Sir, our people have lost their way, but we see the land cares for you. Please come. Pray for us.”
This 100 word story was prompted after listening to the song “Elysia” by
. I discovered his Substack yesterday and have been enjoying his music since. I’ve also been reading a bit about wild saints over on .Fiction writing has been tough for me for a few weeks now. Not entirely sure why but I know that I needed to write something and just get it published, so here we are. Hope you found it interesting. Thank your for being here.
Wow