“Two Chairs, West Vancouver Waterfront” Phone Photo, DS
Here are my explorations for today:
Vodolazkin, Eugene. Laurus: The International Bestseller . Oneworld Publications. Kindle Edition. 2013.
999 words for blog
*** Mones*** (Arsenius was not a woman.) *** She prostrated herself in the church vestibule and lay there for several hours, requesting but one thing for her baby: life. *** 1441 *** The land has belonged to the “White Nights” gardening association since 1991. The group’s members unearth large quantities of bones and missile shells along with potatoes, but they are in no rush to complain to the local authorities. They know nobody would grant them other land anyway. *** Christofer did not consider this precaution excessive, despite knowing the pestilence left houses on its own, over time. *** Christofer also helped with bedroom matters. *** And how can it be that women let men like this near them? What a nightmare! *** him. If there was no erection, Christofer suggested supplementing meals with expensive anise and almond or an inexpensive mint syrup; all increase the seed and promote bedroom thoughts. *** Christofer did not exactly believe in herbs; more likely he believed God’s help would come, through any herb . . . *** Christofer’s help to his fellow man was not limited to medicine. *** Christofer had stood, unable to believe his wife was dead: she had just been alive. *** Arseny loved the smell in his grandfather’s house. The smell was composed of the aromas of the multitude of herbs drying under the ceiling, and that smell did not exist anywhere else. Arseny also loved the peacock feathers a pilgrim had brought to Christofer. *** His grandfather observed the icon’s mysterious current flow into Arseny’s hands. *** The heavens had long appealed to him and the attraction became irresistible after this announcement that his grandmother, whom he had never seen, dwelled there. *** He took Arseny to the monastery so his spirit would strengthen along with his flesh. *** windflower *** Everything is about prayer after all. *** After that, they often ran across the wolf in the forest. The wolf sat beside them when they ate lunch. *** When they kissed his hair, they felt as if they had drunk from a deep, fresh spring. There was something in Arseny that eased lives that were anything but simple. People await the plague scourge. *** Grass affectionately rubbed against their feet and meteorites flew above their heads. Arseny felt the warmth of Christofer’s hand on the back of his head. *** And that is how Our Lord Jesus Christ ascended the tree of the cross and imparted to us His purest blood to heal sin. *** Death is not just the bitterness of parting. It is also the joy of liberation. *** He could write in the morning, afternoon, and evening. *** He wrote down his doctorly prayers . . . *** For Christofer, the written word seemed to regulate the world. *** The child read the birch-bark manuscripts out loud. *** Arseny read the Alexander Romance constantly. He read it sitting on the bench . . . He settled at the boy’s feet and listened to the unusual narration. He carefully followed the events in the life of the Macedonian king, right along with Arseny. *** The wolf would approach Arseny at the first words of the Alexander Romance. He settled at the boy’s feet and listened to the unusual narration. He carefully followed the events in the life of the Macedonian king, right along with Arseny. *** So he would hold forth about the qualities of wood, about what all of us in the quarter already knew: that oak is hard and pine is soft. *** The heads of yellow buttercups touch his face. It is ticklish and he smiles. The wolf wags his tail the slightest bit. *** His spirit, however, continued to keep watch in the body, but only two words remained: I forgive. The scoundrels, though, continued roaming the region, languishing as they awaited Judgment Day. *** To avoid immortalizing serious sins, the elder did not write them down. *** An aroma of freshly planed wood spread through the house along with the smell of herbs. *** drink a tisane of lavender *** And so began the first day without Christofer, and Arseny wept away the first half of that day. *** The cemetery was quiet. It had been visited rarely . . . *** The visitors were the only link connecting Arseny to life. *** It was a gaze. *** He delighted in her red glow. And how the linen thread holding her cross rose and fell on her collarbone in time with her breathing. *** And his sweat mixed with her sweat. And then his flesh entered her flesh. In the morning, they saw the linen had become crimson. *** Ustina was not separate from his love for her. *** To Arseny, the red-haired girl seemed like clay in his hands, clay from which he molded himself a Wife. *** Ustina asked Arseny to teach her to read and write. *** Arseny rubbed her temples with dill oil or a wild-strawberry tisane. *** Ustina’s joys were more vivid than her sufferings. *** The coming of a new day, without Ustina, was intolerable for him. *** You have a difficult journey, for the story of your love is only beginning. Everything, O Arseny, will now depend on the strength of your love. And, of course, on the strength of your prayers, too. ***
ShellseekerReflections 