The Rainbow
Tongue in cheek, {Abigail} straightened her back, remembering the evil tide before the flood. Passed down the generations until it was told to her and her brothers, a captivated audience, by her great-grandfather shortly before his death, the tale of how demons had seemingly walked the earth, so much chaos there was. The story gave her nightmares and she never heard it again, but she still remembered her grandfather’s words of promise near the story’s end. “That is why, Abigail, Amos, Abithar, and Elisha, the Lord God gave a promise to never flood the earth again. And He painted a rainbow in the sky, yes, all the colors of the rainbow, Abigail, to remind us of this promise. The rainbow is beautiful to look at, Abithar,” her grandfather had said as he had watched his grandson’s attention divert elsewhere for a moment, “not only because of its colors, but because it is a reminder that, through every storm, whether in the skies or in our lives, He will paint a rainbow. Sunny days,” he paused momentarily, as if searching for the right words, “Sunny days reflect the light He brings. There is a light at the end of every dark tunnel, if we only trust in our great Jehovah, and His holy Name. Now get along for evening prayers, children. Pestering for another story will be useless…” It never was, Abigail smiled almost ruefully as she remembered how much she and her brothers had teased the old man. However, it was true. She remembered the truths spoken in the story at the slight resemblance of every rainbow...
- An excerpt from my latest short story. Copyright SierraBrewer, 2012.
