"Only, but only the matchsticks, nothing can be heard. Just quietness and peace seemed to be present in them. No one can reach them, nor wind nor any blow can turn them off."
"Aahhh!"
Those strong horrific sounds were heard from those who had risen up from the mud after the sudden fall of that big wall like water that had fallen on the living earth.
After the waterfall, the ground was just full of mud.
The humans were able to open their eyes and take out the mud that filled them up. Some eyes turned red, others yellow and few turned green.
"They were like the traffic lights of the streets."
The writer said as he was seated cross-legged like Aladdin in his magic carpet, but holding a pen and writing his story on a notebook.
As he was talking alone, the pen released itself from his fingers to be converted into a big size equal to him and stayed standing beside him and gave a question.
"What do you mean like the traffic lights?"
The writer shook his head watching the craziness of the pen and smiled.
"The traffic lights red commands to Stop. The yellow to Slow Down and the green To Go."
Then he switched his attention again to the event happening below, as his carpet was flying above it, the earth itself.
"Just watch them."
On earth, the human beings turned to look at each other. Only those with the same color of eyes could see each other, but not the others with different colors. They felt strength, knowing they were not alone. They united themselves into a community.
The only thing they could see in common was everything all of them had just witnessed. Everything that was happening to the matchsticks above them.
Slowly, the matchsticks were coming down and each one started to change into another form.
First, clear glass walls were formed into a tall squared size closed box; inside of each, a matchstick.
Distinct reactions came out from the witnesses below as not all of them were seeing the same thing.
The red colored eyed could see the matchsticks turning into humans in white long tunic clothes with their eyes looking up with red tears flowing in their cheeks. Their hands were all clasped in praying.
"Oh my Lord, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell and lead all souls to heaven."
Non-stop they repeated the same prayer all over again.
The humans with the sored red eyes have theirs burning like fire and started to pick up the mud and threw them hardly against those inside the glasses. From their lips came out all kinds of insults, full of hatred and rage.
The writer gave a calm look to the pen. He picked it up again as it had already turned itself to its normal size and was lying on top of his notebook. So he continued writing.
All those with the same red eyes have the same reactions.
Meanwhile, the writer decided to concentrate on other colors.
The yellow eyed have witnessed a burst of sunlight coming from the inside of the clear glass walls.
"Show me, my Lord, let me see your light so I may follow you."
Those words they prayed.
Then from the glass a voice was heard.
"Knock and the door shall be opened; seek and ye shall find.."
The event made the writer grin. He put down his pen to clasped his hands, closed his eyes to pray as well.
"Create in us a pure heart, O God. Renew a steadfast spirit within us. Do not cast us away from your presence nor take your Holy S´pirit from us. Restore in us the joy of your salvation and grant us the willingness of spirit to sustain ourselves."
As he finished, all the yellow eyed said Amen.
The writer went back to his pen.
This time his attention was called by shouts of joy.
"Praise be to God! Hallelujah!"
They were the green eyed who were seeing a different revelation from the rest.
Before their eyes, they could see the clear glass wall opening itself. Inside it they could observe the full white cotton clouds and feel a good sensation from them.
"Your sins have forgiven you."
The writer was affected by the shouts of joy that he made a sudden move that almost made him fall.
Well, he did fall from his bed. As usual, he fell asleep writing a story. He remembered he was about to sleep when the pen he forgot to take out from the back of his ear, fell on the notebook he left before on top of his bed.
"In case an idea strikes my brain, that is why I have you my notebook to share my bed. But the pen, of course, must be here too."
He seated himself then against the bed's headrest and started to write. His sleepy head won him over till he fell off the bed.
He reviewed his written story and found a title. Shaken 4.
"Just like me, shaken by this pen."
Finally, he left his pen and notebook inside his bed's table.
"Now sleep, really."
And he did.
(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar
