Hello, hello, hello!!!
It's so good to write. Today it was a perfect day to just do this! Words flew easily, though my English brain didn't work somehow *g* - Thank God for dictionaries and good teachers like you!
I'm so bad behind in reading and commenting but I'll try to catch up with more than1000 entries! Wow, you guys have been busy - that's good for me!!! Thank you!
Have a great week, my friends.
Love and hugs,
Title: The Vineyard - Chapter 7
The hand caressed him. He didn’t dare to turn around. It had to be him. Casey. He sat down beside Zeke, playing with the soft hair on his neck that gave him goosebumps. It felt good, so good. Both hands touched his neck, his collarbones, his shoulders, stopped now and then only to touch him again light as a feather. The feeling was so intense that he didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. He still clutched the pillow until his knuckles turned white. ‘What are you doing to me?’ he murmured hoarsely. The voice of the hands were talking to him, telling him something important about his caretaker. He was a good man. Suddenly there was a hunger in him burning within him as a flame threatening to eat him from the inside.
The hands moved to his arms up to his hands, touching his fingers, back again to his shoulders – resting there. A whisper, a plea close to his ear ‘Take care of the vineyard. Take care of my people. Would you do this?’ He didn’t understand, he was confused.
‘But I’m only a bricklayer…’
Again there was a question asked pleadingly ‘Would you do this for me?’
He couldn’t say ‘no’ even if he wanted to. So he nodded.
One of the hands touched his cheek. A hand that was so very cold. He lifted his head and kissed the palm, leaning into the touch. It felt so good, it felt so … real. This wasn’t a ghost.
‘May I ask you something?’ he said and waited holding his breath.
Slowly the hand started shaking and withdrew.
‘I wish you to stay, Casey.’
‘Will you help me becoming a wine grower?’
He felt the couch move, stretched his arms and legs and curled up under the blanket. Was he dreaming?
That’s all he wanted to hear, to get sure he would see him again. That he would come back.
Hands started touching him again, stream-lined movements made him shiver.
“People love you, Casey. They cry for you…”
Was this a sob he heard?
“Why don’t you come back?”
The hands stopped. He sighed deeply and said – nothing.
“Would you tell me something about you? Why did you stay here? Was it difficult to become a winegrower? Were you happy, Casey?”
It was very quiet, so quiet you could hear the needle in a haystack.
“Casey?” His chest felt tight, and his throat was sore.
He turned around and found himself alone. Where has he gone? Why did he leave?
Was it only a dream? It was only a dream, he told himself. Not all visions have to mean something.
He sat up and noticed something shining on the carpet. He picked up a small silver bracelet. There was a little plate on it. He remembered something glittering around Casey’s wrist. So he was here. It wasn’t a dream.
He looked closer at the plate. There was a small engraving on it. ‘C E’. Wasn’t his name Casey Connor? What does this mean?
The longer he stared at it the letters changed.
C changed to Casey and disappeared after a short while.
Suddenly the bracelet grew hot, it felt like it wanted to burn itself into his skin.
He put it on the table and his heart hammered wildly.
Then E started to change. .
Fear swept over him. Was this a sign? A curse?
He couldn’t resist taking it again. Looking now at it E changed to Ezekiel … and this … remained.