caterpillar sheds its skin to find the butterfly within ~ Donovan
“Father!” she cried, banging on the doors. “Father, can you hear me?” She waited, but no answer came from the church. “Please, Father,” she cried again, “we need help in the village! The men have not returned, and the Elders will do nothing! Won’t you open the door?” Jehanna banged harder but to no avail. No matter how loudly she knocked or cried aloud, the priest did not come.
meanwhile, the days passed with foul weather and thick fog and still there was no sight of the husbands returning from their venture over the waves. Jehanna, as well as the other fisher-wives, grew increasingly anxious... Part 3 of "The Bells of Reine".
...so it was, lying beside her husband among the warm blankets, Jehanna could think only of the strange priest in his lonesome vigil within the church...always in the days following her visit to the stone church, it seemed a weariness she could not shake walked with her... Part 2 of my short fiction story "The Bells of Reine". Enjoy.
…the priest began ringing the bells of the church each night from midnight until just before dawn. Night after night, the inhabitants suffered and cursed the priest from the quiet of their beds, but none more so than a woman named Jehanna... Part 1 of my short fiction story "The Bells of Reine". Enjoy.
A Life Unpolished 