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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Satire · #1039313
A fictional account of a day in St. Dorothea's married life.
The Married Life of St. Dorothea


         Dorothea Swartz woke up before the sound of the rooster’s crow. She had much to do today for her and Adalbert were to have company. The Archbishop of Marienburg was to have lunch with them and discuss important matters regarding their church and village. Still, she found it difficult to rise this morning. Every inch of her wanted to stay in bed. She fought the temptation and wiped the crust from her dry, stinging eyes. The sun was not yet up and her mind was still reeling from dreams she could not remember. Adalbert gave a grunting snore from across the room and it served to spur her out of bed. She kneeled and began her morning prayer.
         The sun began it’s ascent into the eastern sky and the rooster’s began their daily calls before she was done. Adalbert let out a short series of grunts and sat up in bed. “Damn those creatures. Dorothea, draw the shades.” He got up from the mattress and stumbled outside to urinate, scratching his posterior on the way. Dorothea obediently drew the shades and shut out the first day’s rays of sunshine. Then she went out to the well to fetch some water for their daily bread. While she was preparing breakfast, Adalbert returned from outside.
         “Ah, a good breakfast of cold water and dry bread. This will be a good day I think.”
         “Yes, my Lord, the Archbishop will be coming to see us.
         “What’s that woman? What is this nonsense about the Archbishop?”
         “I’ve seen it. I know it will be important, but I don’t know more because I don’t remember my dreams from last night.”
         “I see. Before he shows up I think we’ll have to honor the Lord. What say you, Dorothea?”
         “Yes, Adalbert. I think you are right.” Dorothea took a last bit of bread and washed it down with the clear well water. It was a chill September and the water was very refreshing. They will have to thank God especially well this morning. Maybe she will do something to anger Adalbert more than usual, but first the animals need feeding and the cottage must be put in order before the arrival of the Archbishop. Dorothea stepped out into the brisk fall air and took a deep breath. The smell of green leaves filled the atmosphere and the sound of the birds reached her ears. Invigorated, she gathered the some grain and headed to feed the chickens.
         The chicken’s area was surrounded by white stones which Dorothea found especially unsettling. She approached them with special caution today because she began to get a strange feeling. She watched the stones grow nearer and nearer with each step she made until they started changing shape. The whole air began to swirl and change. The dirt road became a plot of lush, consecrated grassy mound. The stones began to grow and flatten—they took on an oblong shape. The shape of graves. Suddenly, around the morbid scene a black, rectangular outline formed—as if she were seeing everything through a box. A strong bout of delirium hit Dorothea and she swayed for a few seconds before altogether crashing to the ground. Grains of sand flew everywhere and a flock of crows swooped down around her. As quickly as the vision had begun, it was over. Dorothea was once again looking at a row of white stones surrounding the chicken coop. What could it mean?
         Dorothea ran straight back to the cottage. She had the feeling that now was the time to please the Lord. In great haste she threw aside the door and flew inside. Adalbert was greatly startled and he seemed to come out of a trance as Dorothea began making a huge mess. She knocked over the table and threw the dinnerware onto the floor.
         “I didn’t feed them!” she screamed. “I didn’t feed the chickens! I refuse! What say you to that my fat, stupid husband?” She grabbed the bucket of milk from beside the door and tossed it out the window. Adalbert couldn’t stand anymore. He grabbed Dorothea by the hair and threw her onto the ground.
         “I think it’s time we did the Lord his service, Dorothea!” he bellowed this with all of his breath. His nostrils flared and his face turned an inhuman shade of red.
         “Yes, husband! The Lord is waiting!” Dorothea stripped bare to the waist and prepared for their ritual. Adalbert grabbed the leather strap from a corner table and stomped to Dorothea. He loomed above her like mountain, brandishing the strap in his right hand which was raised high above his head. His form shimmered before Dorothea’s eyes and his nostrils seemed to smoke violently. This was their gift to God. The strap came down on her back and her head snapped back with a yelp of pain. Soon. Soon she will see her destiny. These times of ritual were when she saw her destiny clearest. The strap came down again. Another yelp from Dorothea, but this time with a hint of a smile. The next time the strap came down that smile was accompanied by a slight chuckle. Dorothea felt a thin line of blood begin to make its way down her back and toward her pelvic region. This was exhilarating. Her heart was pumping faster than the fasted horse. The strap came down again and she began to see.
         The cottage disappeared. She saw the graveyard again. It was still surrounded by a rectangular black border—she could tell she was looking through a window. She heard the strap give another crack between her shoulder blades, but this time she felt nothing. The boxed graveyard moved to the left and for a second everything was black. Then another box appeared, only through this box she witnessed a congregation where people were lined up for Holy Communion. Holy of Holies, this is her destiny! She will preside over this some day.
         She heard another quick snap of the leather strap and the boxed congregation retreated down, out of her line of vision. Blackness for a second until another box descended from the top and all she saw through it was fresh blue sky. The heavens were calling to her. The Lord God had need of her! Dorothea felt her body shiver with the ecstasy of revelation. Her face was tickled with the streams of salty sweat that ran their course down it. Another crack and she saw once again the boxed cemetery. The people who were laid to rest were totally at peace. Suddenly a pair of hands filled the box. The hands of God, perhaps? They offered bread. And water. Dorothea had never felt more alive before she passed out.
         When she came to, she was lying on the floor and Adalbert was pouring water into her mouth.
         “Perhaps that was a bit too much, eh Dorothea?”
         “Oh, no Adalbert. I think we made God very happy this day. Now come. We must prepare the house for the arrival of the Archbishop!”
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