“Basophilia”
I tell you, I believed that if anything befell one or both of my daughters, I would shake my fists to the heavens and scream at God and order Him to appear and tell me how He could have allowed any harm to come to my beautiful, happy, and innocent children.
Children full of goodness, love, promise, freckles, gap-toothed smiles, and cow’s licks, lights in our world. I would scream, bang on doors, kick at walls, and break anything and everything until my throat, hands, feet, all of me bled. And still I wouldn’t stop.
Nothing mortal could hold me down until He showed Himself. And when at last He dared to face me, I would fly at Him, spitting and grunting, and with my bare hands and teeth tear Him to shreds.
I tell you, when the unthinkable happened, I got down on my knees and in silence begged.
Ethel Rohan’s work has or will appear in FRiGG, Waccamaw Journal, Southword Journal, and Potomac Review. She blogs at ethelrohan.com.
