The fiction no one wanted

THE MISSIONARY – Chapter 3 – part 3

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Sighing heavily, Brad walked outside and took in the world at large.

“What do I do now.”

“Let’s go hunting,” suggested Teyata.

Brad fumed. “I meant for the rest of my life. You just don’t understand. Right here and now, you’re literally the only friend I have on Earth…

but I wish I could talk to someone about this from the old world.”

The skeletons on the lawn and on the road left him with little hope of finding such a human being. Then a thought occurred to him.

“I know someone I can ask,” he said moving off.

He started off at a fast walk, then broke into a run. Teyata loped off beside him, then bounded onto a statue. She clapped a hand around the back of its neck and leaned back as Brad jogged by.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To a place near here that I know.”

She sailed past his shoulder with her next leap and bounded beside him as he progressed to the suburbs. Ahead, he saw the object of his goal, a tall spire protruding above the trees. Brad ran down an alleyway and crossed the street, entering a church’s yard. Like the library, it too had been constructed from sandstone. It had stained glass windows depicting scenes from the Bible.

Brad vaulted over the picket fence and trampled through the weeds. He stopped at the arched front doors and attempted to push them open. They sternly resisted him. Running to the rear of the building, he found a small door, possibly a back entrance into a kitchenette, facing the same result.

He stepped back from the building and scanned its exterior, looking for a way inside. The sandstone retainers in the garden looked inviting. If he threw one through one of the windows, he could enter that way. With a shake of his head, he dismissed the thought. Not that he had any reverence for the windows; he just believed it a shame to destroy historical art pieces.

Stepping back further, he took in the roof, hoping to find a belfry. It didn’t have one, but he noticed an irregularity in the roof. A shingle tile looked askew from the rest of the row. A tree with a thick trailing limb, lead virtually to an end just above the building’s entrance.

“Teyata?” He called, still looking up.

She appeared from his peripheral vision, landing in front of him with swishing tail.

“Can you climb that tree?”

She looked at him blankly and waited, as if expecting more to the question.

“Yes,” she said eventually.

“Good. I have to get inside.” he pointed. “See where that tile’s out of place?”

She nodded.

“Ok; I want you to pull them up. That’ll make a hole for you to get inside. Now see the door?”

Another nod.

Brad wondered how he’d go at the concept of explaining a lock.

“Do you know what a latch is?”


“Ok; well then undo that for me.”

Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3


Author: mickdawson

I am a writer who never suffers from writer's block. My work is original in concept, thus telling me in both instances that God has gifted me. It is my hope that my work moves others. That those who read, might walk the lonely miles with the heroes; that they laugh and cry with them, and are also warmed by love. But there is also a greater hope. That those who read my work, see God's word in the adventures. More specifically that they find Jesus in the many pages and accept His free gift of salvation, already paid for on the cross.

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