Moon

By Anna Nihil

A modern fairy-tale as light as the wind, as enchanting as the ocean, as wondrous as the moon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Dec 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781507166475

Book preview

This book is a work of fantasy. Characters and places quoted are inventions of the author and have the aim of conferring truthfulness to the narrative. Any analogy with facts, places or people, alive or deceased, is absolutely casual.

Dedicated

To those who distinguish themselves

from the mass

because they are special

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

1) The mysterious woman

2) The beacon of the lighthouse

3) The wounded beauty

4) Peace

5) The witch

6) The wife

7) The old sailor

The mysterious woman

––––––––

The beatings on the door resounded heavily, and laments rent the silence.

The parish priest awoke abruptly from his sleep. He got up hastily and slipped on his habit. His role meant that he had to seek to always maintain a seemly appearance, this was what everyone expected of him: he had to be the fullest embodiment of order, morality and compassion.

The housekeeper also awoke. Being afraid, she didn’t concern herself with her appearance like the priest (not that she generally worried about it to any greater extent), she simply wrapped herself in a small woollen dressing-gown and lit her oil lamp. Before running to let in that poor soul who was screaming desperately outside the church, she passed in front of the priest’s room and knocked in order to ascertain that he had heard the noise.

Father! she called out to him after a couple of raps on the wood.

Yes, I’m coming! He opened his door at once, visibly fatigued and apprehensive.

There was a woman behind the door of the church, that much was clear.

The housekeeper used the lamp as a light and the priest lifted the heavy bar of iron placed as a security measure behind the door.

What is the matter, my daughter? he asked before he had even seen the woman’s face.

I’m about to give birth to my child! I’m alone, help me! the desperate woman said.

The housekeeper and the priest would almost have liked to close the door again at that response.

Neither of them had any affinity for children, and even less for women in labour. Every Wednesday, the day of catechism for the town’s children, was a nightmare for both. The priest couldn’t stand their impertinent questions, and the housekeeper detested the disorder that only those pests were able to create.

But the Lord taught one to open the door to those who have need of it; they would attend to her in some manner.

The priest sought to comfort himself by thinking that if giving birth to a child was so difficult, no-one would any longer be born. He raised his gaze to the sky, made the sign of the cross, and fully opened the door.

As soon as he had opened the door, he held out his arm to give support to the woman and invited her to sit down on one of the church’s benches. It was too uncomfortable for the woman to stay seated there. A violent spasm compelled her to lower herself on the prie-dieu. She had the face of a sufferer and hands crossed on her stomach, as if she was about the express the most heartfelt of prayers.

In reality, the woman would have liked to be free to swear, but she restrained herself out of respect for that place, notwithstanding that for her it had never meant much.

The housekeeper thought ill of her. She had deduced her intentions, but it was natural- what could one ever expect of a woman of disrepute? It was enough to look at her clothes, and then she was alone at that hour of the night... An instinctive antipathy instantly asserted itself.

The priest roused her from her ill-humoured thoughts by asking her to bring some cushions, light blankets... All that could be necessary for the woman and her about-to-be-born child. They were forced to create an improvised bed.

The housekeeper complied and ran to get what was needed, even if she was unable