You Will Find Me

Survival and salvation are two sides of the same coin

"Move branch and you will find me; lift a stone and I will be there."

Peter turned these words over in his head as he trudged wearily along the jungle path. He was thirsty and bleeding. He doubted very much if any god of his understanding was hiding in the wood or stone of this place. Perhaps one of the native gods, an angry god, a sacrificial—

Peter reached out and grabbead the vine next to him to keep from falling. In his miserable reflections he had almost walked right off a cliff hidden in the deep foliage.

"Just my luck," he muttered. "Survive the crash just to jump off a God damn cliff."

He suddenly jerked his back as if he had been stung. A large red ant held on tightly, biting him again. Peter screamed and failed his hand to rid himself of the insect, and in doing so, he lost his balance.

He tumbled down through soft foliage, miraculously missing rocks and roots. He fell for what seemed like years. When he stopped, he found himself under a tangle of branches behind a stone wall. He cleared the wood away and reached for the wall. He inadvertantly pulling a rock away, kneeling in the dusty straw strewn haphazardly on the floor.

In the gap left by the stone, Peter saw two men climbing out of a small riverboat, each with large silver crosses hanging from their necks.

Peter closed his eyes and prayed thanksgiving with all his heart. He had moved s branch; her had lifted a stone.

And in the form of two wandering missionaries, Peter rediscovered he had never been alone at all.

NOTES: ▼

Word Count: 278
Submitted for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Use the words branch, stone, straw