[ THE PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA ] - ( CHAPTER 38 ) - { PT. 1 }

 ( CHAPTER  38 )  -  { PT.  1 }                                                                Christiano lay on a kingsize bed gazing contemplatively at the concave ceiling above him. The walls surrounding him were papered with trees abundant with robins and butterflies perched on lush, verdant leaves. The black notebook and the framed parchment were by his side. Angelica breezed out of the en-suite bathroom, changed, refreshed and ready for a little rest before dinner. Are you okay? With his thoughts disrupted, he turned to face her. Do you believe that premonition? That we are the reincarnation of Mary and Joseph? Have you translated the parchment already? I was going to take a look after dinner, but to be honest, I do not see Kurush as an incompetent man. And to fabricate all this would be an orchestration of inconceivable proportion. If he is lying why let me see the parchment at all? He rose to a sitting position and rubbed his frowning brow. Angelica kneeled on the floor and gazed sympathetically into his eyes. Well, I'm pregnent with the Messiah. It stands to reason I would or could be the incarnation of Mary. And who would I want by my side but my Joseph? The tension left his face and his lips spread into a modest smile. You are beautiful. As are you. She allowed her lips to drift closer to his, and their mouths touched, sending a scorching heat through their bodies--their passionate kiss fevered by life-times apart. When their lips parted, he leaned his forehead against hers, finally relenting to the impassioned feelings pulsing through his veins. Let me show you something. She stood up. Angelica... shush. She spoke gently as she guided his head to her belly. As his face rested on her abdomen, a feeling of peace wafted through him like a drifting cloud on a sunny day. It reached his heart, shattering all its defences, and in an instant, every doubt in his mind was obliterated. He gasped, unable to breathe as his being was drenched in love so pure that it was unbearable. He buried his forehead against her bump, never wanting to lose the presence of Truth that filled every gaping hole he had ever felt. There he remained, sobbing into her belly.                                      ________________________________________________________ 

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