As he enters the Living Church he is immediately greeted by the smell of fried chicken.
It takes him a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness within the Church, after the white mist and snow outside. He steps further into the space and sees the flickering orange glow of dozens of candles, and amongst the candles there are incense burners of various sizes and shapes, emitting soft plumes of scented smoke into the air of the church's interior.
Fried chicken gives way to other smells - burning leaves, and the smell of wet dog hair (a particular wet dog, the one that had lived next door to the house where he'd grown up), and the chlorine tang of a swimming pool. Fresh cut grass. Stale beer left over the next day after a party. His daughter's plasticine figures, placed covertly around the house….
He sees the light of an open doorway at the end of this hallway of memory smells. As he approaches, a cloaked figure steps into the doorway. It is a deer man, very old and wizened, his antlers gnarled and twisted.
"I am the Abbot." says the figure. Behind the man there is a courtyard filled with stalks of wheat that sway and flow in the breeze. The Abbot smiles and beckons.
"You must be hungry."
This is the Fourth Chapter of Act Two of my ongoing #freewrite serial story.
ACT TWO CHAPTERS
Chapter One *** Chapter Two *** Chapter Three
Here is Chapter Five.
And here is a Chapter List, with links, for all of Act One.
Written in five minutes from the writing prompt, "Fried Chicken" as part of the #freewrite exercise. Image is by me as well. You can view the prompt here and check out the other entries; each one made from eleven different herbs and spices . Thanks to @mariannewest for creating and running this fiction lickin' good selection.
Writing and images by Greg McCann, the author of this post and owner of this Steemit Channel. To view more of my work, please visit www.fireawaymarmot.com.