The Word Worker

Tag: Grief

  • The Bridge

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    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    It only appeared in the fog, the old bridge. Not the morning fog when the rising sun burned off the surface of the river. The rare sunset mist defying the golden glow spilling over the horizon. The mist that was both there and not there, with impossible shapes darkening it. With the bridge that couldn’t…

  • Purgatory

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    by

    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    The harsh brightness of the midday square angered him. Even the fountain stood dead before the theater, colorful banners hanging breezeless above it, hallmarks of the latest empty dance of gauze and orchestral cacophony. Sweat beaded in the furrow above his eyebrows, daring him to mop it away with the napkin crushed in his grip.…

  • I Remember

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    by

    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    I remember.The stunned faces of teenagers watching horrific history play out in real time on classroom tvs. I remember.Teachers calling relatives in New York and crying for missing loved ones and the inevitable death toll. I remember. The face of a president in a room full of children when the news was whispered in his…

  • Sunset

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    by

    wordworkerrussell
    in

    The deep rays surrounded her, burning deep into her skin. Her tears were flame, paths of umber scoring her cheeks. She screamed at the sea below, at the calm waves whispering against the rocks. Her hands trembled on the railing, knuckles white and stiff against the gray wood. Where was the peace promised? Where were…

  • Candles

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    by

    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    The dried up, decomposing vines brushed her skin, tendrils of the darkness that protected what was left of her soul and crushed the breath from her lungs all at once. The candles in front of her flickered, pitiful against even the promise of wind in a trembling leaf at the edge of vision. Only three.…

  • Dry

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    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    Color surrounded her, the brilliant yellows and reds and greens of summer in the garden. The sky glared blue overhead, and she glared back at its near cloudless face. Her hand closed around the nearest white spray, twisting involuntarily, the crushed petals releasing their nauseatingly sweet scent as they fell from her fingers. She took…

  • Empty

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    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    The blast zone was eerily quiet. Sophie walked slowly over the dead ground, footfalls crunchy in the charcoaled remains of the world she had known. Her heart thudded, as loud as the sobbing breath heaving in and out of her lungs. Already long shadows fingered the valley, shades of glory made barren. The time between…

  • Peace, Be Still

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    wordworkerrussell
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    When God called Moses from the burning bush, Moses already knew God. He had already felt a calling to help his people, a purpose greater than himself. Because his early efforts had failed, what he did not feel was equipped. He pleaded to be excused from the task because he did not think he had…

  • Godly Emotion

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    wordworkerrussell
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    Very often in the circles labeling themselves as Christian we find evidence of the idea that emotions have nothing to do our walk with God. It may be expressed as the noble sentiment that our actions should be ruled by reason, which is true but only to a point. The human brain is an incredibly…

  • The Box

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    by

    wordworkerrussell
    in ,

    She closed the door slowly, keys slipping from her fingers to the entryway table with an absurdly loud clatter in the silent house. A light showed dimly under the kitchen door and her feet moved automatically in that direction. Her hand slid across the door as she pushed it open and a broad swath of…