Christian Fiction


Without hesitancy, a finger reaches down toward the liquid blue

its nail glances across the surface

an oval is born.

The oval grows, gaining speed

while other ovals follow in its wake.

The finger lifts up

in awe of its creation

amazed as the ovals expand and explore the liquid blue.

The silent water ripples for the first time,

and yet the ovals begin to fade

some flowing in haphazard directions

others colliding and dying

each ending without a trace.

Unless that finger chooses to tap the surface again

the ovals will no longer arise pure and perfect in form.

The ovals appear to have never existed

except the memory of their maker

remembers their beauty.



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