The Living Church towers over him, brimming with weight and water and stone, staring into him as he looks up from his position at the edge of the ice.
He points at his chest. "My Church is within my Heart."
I know. the Church rumbles. We are in correspondence.
He considers this a moment as the wind picks up, sending plumes of snow that billow like lace curtains across the ice, swirling around him in a dance of primal energy and thought.
"May I enter?" He asks, blinking up through the haze of airborne crystal.
After a few seconds a massive drawbridge of iron and wood lowers from immense chains, grinding downwards slowly before crashing onto the edge of the ice. The snow squalls spiral away from the bridge's impact, along with shards of ice and water, clearing his way.
He inhales a deep breath and pushes forward on his skis, taking entrance to the front gates of the Living Church.
This is the Third Chapter of Act Two of my ongoing #freewrite serial story.
ACT TWO CHAPTERS
Chapter One *** Chapter Two
Here is Chapter Four.
And here is a Chapter List, with links, for all of Act One.
Written in five minutes from the writing prompt, "Lace" 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 of it's own unique fabric . Thanks to @mariannewest for creating and running this selection of dainty and sensual textures against the skin of your mind.
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.