The Shift

image: Tina Urso McDaniel 2017

There was a layer of disquiet everywhere. The wooden pews and floorboards squeaked as parishioners stood and sat down again in turn, uncertain whether to leave. The bells resonated uncomfortably, slightly off-key. Some held their eyes shut tight in fervent prayer. Unbalance, a shifting, deep and wide. She opened her mouth but found no words as her eyes darted upwards. There was an almost imperceptible creaking and groaning, which she knew could only be coming from the bell tower above.  It was moments like these that proved a person, and she knew she was failing her flock. When she closed her eyes and waited for the surface of the pond to calm, she knew almost with certainty that the shift was moving toward great and cosmic things. Things that would prove the visions she had followed for years. Things she had difficulty feeling when she opened her eyes and ears. She knew her senses deceived her, that somehow things would be alright in the end. But oh, the chaos of the in-between.