Write Her Story
by Delphine Boswell
Who would have guessed that I would have lived long enough to see the end, but I did. It began just as predicted. The clouds turned steel grey, thunder grumbled, and the earth began to shake the little farming community.
On the dusty road before us, a woman, with a leashed jackal at her side, seemed to appear out of nowhere. The men stopped the engines to their tractors, aproned women ran out of their houses, and children let go of the strings to their kites. People rushed to hug one another out of fright, the unknown, the anticipation.
The pale-complexioned woman with raven-colored eyes, dressed in black including an ebony veil covering part of her face, spoke, “Today is the end of times. I have come to separate the wheat from the chaff. Look into your souls. Find your most glorious…
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