The Verge Of Belief

soul_ascending_by_suiatsu-d7b6exuThings weren’t the same since she came back from Jerusalem. With the stumbling and marching noise of combat boots outside of her cottage in a backward ghetto. Emily foresaw a thunder waging against her. She was on the horns of dilemma. She couldn’t disclose the information of the exalted Muslim clergyman she met in Jerusalem, to the troops of Soviet State General Martinus. And she knew that the whole Soviet nation had rough ties with that man. Suddenly they entered with the bursting disharmonious sounds of their Shotguns, firings, recoils and everyother fearful thing in this world. They came in her bedroom marching. She was caught. Her wrists twisted and she was made to bow before the General. ‘Finish her’, he said, in the most empowered and authoritative manner. A man with a gun pointed on her head and a room full of men with hearts that don’t beat. But at the verge of this moment, she reminisces an incantation the Muslim clergyman gave to her in Jerusalem. ” لا إله الا الله” said the parchment he thrust onto her hands and she made a necklace out of it. Now, she sees a luminous light. The light of angels. A huge white shadow with vast wings and a beauty which can’t be described descended to this mere Earth. He lifted her and said, “Now It is the clergyman’s God to whom I shall take you. Verily He is the most merciful.”

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