Judith Harper gives us our final story of the Blitz. Thanks to all who contributed!
As usual, Miriam was almost not-there. She stood alone—apart from the crowd, head wrapped in drab gray scarves, brain swathed in blacksmokefog, spirit buried in brownmudclay. She looked up at the Teacher, unshed tears calling to Him.
Lord, I despair!
He smiled at her. Clay crumbled, fog scattered, scarves fell off.
Daughter, rejoice!
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