A new story is up on the home page of Gay Flash Fiction.
When I was fifteen a prophet came to my church. What I really wanted was for her to speak over me, a laying on of hands.
I came at this piece many different ways through the past 5 years. I always knew I wanted to do it, but each time—in such a small space, in so little words—I was never sure who was speaking. Of course the protagonist doesn’t exactly know either—that’s why he/she needed a prophet, someone to tell them exactly what they needed to know.
You see it isn’t always clear.
Please read and share the link with others. It’ll be up for a week before being archived into the blog. THANK YOU.
ALSO another acceptance. This piece is a reprint, In Her Garden, which will be at Penny Shorts a British on-line journal. I will definitely let my readers (both of you) know when it is posted. Again, thanks. Really.
|"laying on of hands" ceremony in the Pentecostal Church of God|