Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1) by Lester Suggs Page A
Authors: Lester Suggs
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what to do for the woman. He made a clumsy step toward her, faltered, then took another step.
“Is this heaven?” she asked as she looked around. Griffin imagined she was looking for a “Welcome to Heaven” sign. “Tell me!” she demanded of Griffin. She backed away from Griffin's advance. Feeling her fear and confusion, Griffin stopped and brought his hands back to his sides, realizing that not saying anything to the woman was probably doing her more harm than good.
There was a sudden and quick change in air pressure and a flash of white light coming from Griffin's left. Turning, Griffin saw it was the observer from his last hallucination. Griffin heard a slight squeal from the Indian woman. She was going to pop from fear.
“It’s all right. Don’t be afraid,” Griffin said. He kept his eyes on the observer. The observer appeared as before, human like but with features resembling the children Griffin had watched.
“Gabriel, Herald of God?” Griffin asked. Gabriel nodded.
“What?” Griffin heard the woman ask.
“This has never happened before. This isn't by design,” Gabriel said as if not recognizing the other two.
“What did he say?” the woman asked.
“What hasn't happened before?” Griffin asked facing Gabriel.
“Wait!” the woman shouted, “If he is the Archangel Gabriel, who are you?” She pointed at Griffin.
“I’m Griffin DeLuca.”
“The vessel of wisdom,” Gabriel added. He gestured toward the woman. “You are Itishree, the prophet, messenger of God”
“Itishree,” Griffin said to himself, an exercise in remembering. He liked her name. Hell, he liked everything about her, he realized.
"Me? What?" Itishree yelped.
“Never before have I held the vessel and the prophet in my mind,” Gabriel said, again as if noting an attribute of an anthill.
“We’re in his mind?” Itishree asked. She looked at Griffin for confirmation.
“Yes. I believe we are,” Griffin said. And he was back in his living room still holding his near empty glass.
Itishree completed her last step towards the trash can. She stumbled a little as her mind caught up to her body. She managed not to crumple to the floor in her effort to drop in her trash. Itishree’s eyes were still wide from the off-world experience. She walked quickly to the terminal and crossed back through customs without saying a word. Itishree made her way to the plane and crashed into her seat. A feeling of weightlessness came over her and she wanted to cry, but she refused to cry.
Another thirty minutes later, Itishree was curled in her seat, full of food and under the drowsy influence of vibrations and hums of systems she imagined were normal. She opened her eyes and peeked above the small airline blanket as the pilot gave his latest report.
“We’re going to be delayed forty minutes while we wait for more information of a weather system west of Pittsburgh.” Groans came from the few passengers still awake. Itishree imagined the cabin lights had been turned down to assist in riot control.
“We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause, and thank you again for flying Delta Airlines.” The intercom fell silent.
Itishree wanted nothing more than to get off this flight in Pittsburgh, meet up with her cousin, laugh, talk about her ordeal, family, etc. and forget what happened in the terminal. She looked around, guilty of even thinking about the loss of control. “I came all this way, half way around the world, chasing my dreams — yet freak out kilometers before I reached my destination,” Itishree scolded herself. She folded under the thin blanket and drew as much comfort out of the small pillow as she could. Itishree laid her head inside the window alcove and closed her eyes, hoping when she woke Pittsburgh would be under these wheels.
Darkness and Dawn
What seemed like moments after Frank had closed his eyes, his government issued Blackberry vibrated on the night stand. Frank rolled gracefully out of
“Is this heaven?” she asked as she looked around. Griffin imagined she was looking for a “Welcome to Heaven” sign. “Tell me!” she demanded of Griffin. She backed away from Griffin's advance. Feeling her fear and confusion, Griffin stopped and brought his hands back to his sides, realizing that not saying anything to the woman was probably doing her more harm than good.
There was a sudden and quick change in air pressure and a flash of white light coming from Griffin's left. Turning, Griffin saw it was the observer from his last hallucination. Griffin heard a slight squeal from the Indian woman. She was going to pop from fear.
“It’s all right. Don’t be afraid,” Griffin said. He kept his eyes on the observer. The observer appeared as before, human like but with features resembling the children Griffin had watched.
“Gabriel, Herald of God?” Griffin asked. Gabriel nodded.
“What?” Griffin heard the woman ask.
“This has never happened before. This isn't by design,” Gabriel said as if not recognizing the other two.
“What did he say?” the woman asked.
“What hasn't happened before?” Griffin asked facing Gabriel.
“Wait!” the woman shouted, “If he is the Archangel Gabriel, who are you?” She pointed at Griffin.
“I’m Griffin DeLuca.”
“The vessel of wisdom,” Gabriel added. He gestured toward the woman. “You are Itishree, the prophet, messenger of God”
“Itishree,” Griffin said to himself, an exercise in remembering. He liked her name. Hell, he liked everything about her, he realized.
"Me? What?" Itishree yelped.
“Never before have I held the vessel and the prophet in my mind,” Gabriel said, again as if noting an attribute of an anthill.
“We’re in his mind?” Itishree asked. She looked at Griffin for confirmation.
“Yes. I believe we are,” Griffin said. And he was back in his living room still holding his near empty glass.
Itishree completed her last step towards the trash can. She stumbled a little as her mind caught up to her body. She managed not to crumple to the floor in her effort to drop in her trash. Itishree’s eyes were still wide from the off-world experience. She walked quickly to the terminal and crossed back through customs without saying a word. Itishree made her way to the plane and crashed into her seat. A feeling of weightlessness came over her and she wanted to cry, but she refused to cry.
Another thirty minutes later, Itishree was curled in her seat, full of food and under the drowsy influence of vibrations and hums of systems she imagined were normal. She opened her eyes and peeked above the small airline blanket as the pilot gave his latest report.
“We’re going to be delayed forty minutes while we wait for more information of a weather system west of Pittsburgh.” Groans came from the few passengers still awake. Itishree imagined the cabin lights had been turned down to assist in riot control.
“We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause, and thank you again for flying Delta Airlines.” The intercom fell silent.
Itishree wanted nothing more than to get off this flight in Pittsburgh, meet up with her cousin, laugh, talk about her ordeal, family, etc. and forget what happened in the terminal. She looked around, guilty of even thinking about the loss of control. “I came all this way, half way around the world, chasing my dreams — yet freak out kilometers before I reached my destination,” Itishree scolded herself. She folded under the thin blanket and drew as much comfort out of the small pillow as she could. Itishree laid her head inside the window alcove and closed her eyes, hoping when she woke Pittsburgh would be under these wheels.
Darkness and Dawn
What seemed like moments after Frank had closed his eyes, his government issued Blackberry vibrated on the night stand. Frank rolled gracefully out of
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