The words of the prayer slide off her tongue like the rapidly-moving current of a mountain river on its way to find repose in the placid waters of a lake. The familiar words have been worn smooth like the rock she cradles in the palm of her hand for comfort. The faster the words leave her mouth, the sooner they plunge into the depths of the river. Releasing their weight feels powerful. Eventually the words become a single salutary syllable chanted over and over. The repetition calms her mind. She sees herself floating in the cool waters of the lake.
"Classic"
|
