One Thousand Years
Genesage
“The Dream"
(Chapter 10:9)
He saw the red come to her cheeks, and he didn't say a word.
He watched her mouth as she spoke. He was trying hard not to think about the first and last time he had interrupted her. The way she moved her lips, he was always fascinated. He thought of something and was about to interrupt when his instinct for survival took over. He just relaxed and sat there.
Good idea, there might not have been any more for Ezravivor to tell because he might not have lived through a repeat performance of Hurricane D.
She had such full lips..,
He could sit and just watch her for hours as she would talk. He hardly ever remembered what she said, but he liked the way she looked at him and the color of her eyes. He never seemed to get enough of listening to anything she had to say. The little fuzzy lightheaded feeling he always got when she spoke directly to him, he didn't care if it was about the weather, the day or someone else.
He just reacted every time she looked and talked directly to him.
The first part of the story was always the same. He imagined himself the Groom. Even now after all these years a slight shiver ran down his spine. Imagine Him, and Delilah, together, for a thousand years. He lost track of time for a moment savoring that thought.
Ezravivor and Delilah, Delilah and Ezravivor, like two peas in a pod. Which after he thought about it he rejected as everyone knew there were more than two peas in a pod, a whole lot more.
He wanted Delilah to be with just him.
Laughing at himself he had almost forgotten the best part. To hold her in his arms, to finally kiss her and…,
Her voice had broken at just that moment and startled Ezravivor from his fantasy.
She never failed to tell the same scene. It always faded from an ideal wedding into a nightmare event. Delilah in a rare moment years ago had said that’s what marriage was. The guy is always Prince Charming till after the Wedding then he shows his true colors and becomes a real jerk.
Ezravivor had pressed her then asking more questions, but all she would say was that she didn’t mean that all men were jerks, just the ones that were male.
Ezravivor didn’t get it.
When Ezravivor asked Eben about it the only thing he said at the time was,
“You must be talking to a Woman Survivor”
All Ezravivor knew is that whatever a jerk was he didn’t want to become it. Judging by the way Delilah looked at this part of her memories, it definitely must be something bad, really bad.
She looked so different now. Transformed instantly. Haunted and hunted like a trapped animal desperately seeking a way out. Her eyes full of despair and fright. They seemed to recede into her skull. He hardly recognized her as her breathing became rapid.
Her demeanor and look; ashen and furtive. The rise and fall of her chest made one think she had run a marathon instead of sitting on the ground. She trembled visibly.
White robed angels by the thousands with flaming swords were flying into the bridal party. That group being numbered in the thousands. Angels were slaughtering people. Horses with mounted riders came galloping in with swords and trampled everything in sight. Screaming was going on all around.
There was blood turning white into red.
Red that stuck. Red that would not let go. Red that could not be washed, the stain remained.
Each time Delilah retold she would cover her ears as if she were hearing them again. Screaming, screaming, and more screaming, Delilah’s mantra of terror went on.
In the dream the groom from the altar shouted. And it seemed warriors from out of the ground itself sprang to his side and fought back. Out of the east a dark cloud of grotesque animals and flying creatures more nightmares than mankind could imagine could be seen. They were coming, they were coming, they were coming, she always mumbled then.
And at the moment of worst cataclysmic contact between the angels and the grooms party, the flying and the riding, the bride turned to face her and always Delilah saw herself.
She always stopped there as if she woke up.
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