The wind howled like a tortured beast and in its rage scattered a flurry of snow all over the world. Covered in snow, the lost woman was a disoriented ghost seeking for a way out of a frozen predicament. The cold knifed her bones until she felt that needles of frost were stuck into every one of her nerve endings.
Belle Ever was a pilgrim who had unwittingly missed her way in a harsh wintry desert. Her tears had become twin trails of icicles and every breath of exertion condensed before her face. Even though her vision was blurred, she could clearly see death evilly grinning at her with dagger-like rotted teeth.
The shawl that covered her was a puny measure before the massive hands of chill that embraced her in a passionate lover’s hug. Sandals lost, she trudged on barefoot. Frostbite had begun to creep into her toes and sent shock waves of agony to her brain.
To the howling of the wind was suddenly added a maniacal baying that curdled her blood. Looking back, she saw a pack of wolves gaining on her. Fangs glinting in the falling snow, they lunged forward with deadly intent. She knew that even if they did not rip her to bits, the slightest touch from their fangs would do her in. Their teeth dripped saliva laden with a deadly rabid virus.
With her last bit of strength, she ran with all the speed she could muster but she might as well be running from a lupine hurricane. They dogged her steps, snarling and growling. Dread and terror egged her on. She threw away her shawl and ran on looking for a way of escape. Alas in that barren land there was none. Her lungs were bursting, breath freezing until her whole living machinery shut down. She buckled and fell. As the wolf in the vanguard made triumphantly for her jugular, she shouted with all her might but the name came out in a choked whisper…JESUS!!!!…..
…..Up on the hills, the castle room was warm with firewood crackling merrily in the hearth. There was a huge canopied bed draped with satin and silk that looked so inviting. On a dining table were warm loaves fresh from the oven, hot milk, wine and a colourful bowl with an array of the most delicious fruits in the land. The room was so cozy, pleasant and homely. In the alcoves stood white liveried servants waiting for commands to carry out their duties with stunning alacrity. Outside, the winds kept up their tormented howl and wolves shrieked in hungry frustration.
Covered in thick fur, she looked out the window at the diabolical world outside. Earlier, as she was about being ripped to bits, she had called on Jesus and a castle on a hill with an open door appeared before her. She had been pulled by strong hands into its impenetrable and impregnable depths and the door slammed shut after her. As she thought about the most terrifying moment of her life some minutes backed, she rolled the name that had saved her over and over her tongue like it was the sweetest wine…JESUS…
THE NAME OF THE LORD IS A STRONG TOWER, THE RIGHTEOUS RUN INTO IT AND ARE SAFE…..
Images from Google.
2014 Ekpo Ezechinyere