Okay, I am trying something new. A theme in my blog cause I feel like I need to get somewhat … well… less erratic. So here it goes. My Wednesday Whimsical Weirdness. I plan to post little odd snippets of writing, not book blurbs, but just my own little pieces of unpredictable thoughts. Feel free to post your own Whimsy and Weirdness, or just comment on mine.
“Everyone keeps telling me to pray,” Delainey said.
“Well darling, that’s cause they want you to have peace of mind,” her aunt replied. She tossed another shucked corn cob into the pot.
Delainey twisted her long hair into a knot. “I don’t care about peace of mind. I just want my daddy to get better.”
“So do we, but we don’t know what the Lord wants.”
“Well, He should want what I want,” Delainey pouted. “And I don’t want my daddy to die.”
“Honey,” her aunt said, “it’s not our place to tell the Lord what we want. We have to accept His will and seek comfort in His word.”
Her aunt wrapped her arms around her, but Delainey pulled out of her embrace. She didn’t want to hear more hocus about the comfort of the Lord. She only wanted the deep pain growing in her belly, sprouting in her soul and making it black with anger, to go away. And the only way that would happen was if the doctor said her daddy wasn’t sick anymore. Tomorrow she’d know if her daddy could run and play with her again and not lie around in his bed for hours on end as he grew skinnier than her cousin Billy’s old barn cat.
Her daddy used to laugh and his eyes used to crinkle whenever he smiled. Now his lips were dry and chapped. His deep blue eyes had lost their sparkle and had turned into pale rheumy orbs. Her daddy wasn’t even strong enough to sit up.
Delainey picked up another corn cob and ripped the husk off of the pearly yellow kernels. “I won’t feel comforted till God makes daddy strong enough to swing me onto his shoulders and carry me to the County Fair.”
How old is Delainey?