From the Shadows – Part 1

Hello! It’s been a wee while since I’ve posted on here, and it’s been an even longer while since I’ve given you anything but poetry .I thought I would shake that up a bit today. 😀 Not that poetry is bad, but it’s good to have a variety once in a while, hey?

So today I bring to you my latest short story. I’m currently in a short story writing class this semester in college and it’s proving far more difficult than my poetry class was last semester. I’m definitely a poet at heart. However, this short story writing class has been very good for pushing me out of my comfort zone, and for that I am grateful. And after writing this story less than two hours before the deadline, I have learnt an especially valuable lesson; when procrastination doesn’t work, it’s very, very stressful. So yeah, wouldn’t recommend learning that lesson – it’s not the most delightful of ones. 😀 But hey, I got a story out of that frantic writing session, and it actually turned out passably well somehow. And today you get to read the first part of it! I’m afraid you’ll have to come back next week to read the rest though. 😉

So, without further ado, may I present to you: From the Shadows (which is a working title and may or may not change in the coming days hehe)


I hide in the shadows when I can.

You see, I’m that woman.

They whisper about me as I walk past them, pull their children away from me in the street. I almost wish they would scream at me instead – anything would be better than their snide words exchanged behind judging hands.

Is it any wonder I hide? Better to not be seen at all, than seen and scorned and left alone.


My Father taught me to hide – taught me with his lightning temper and heavy hands.

As a child, I learned to bury myself in the corners of my mother’s robe. When she was gone, I turned to corners of houses, and streets, and the olive groves outside town.

Later, I tried to bury myself in the darkness of shadowed beds. After all, there was safety in shadows, right?

The first man was a good talker – I’ll give him that. For a dreary moment I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could stop hiding with him. I was so young.

The second man made me think that perhaps there could be second chances. I should’ve known better.

The third man was a desperate bid for acceptance, I’ll admit it. I was tired and it made me careless, and my body was a good bargain for a little love.

The fourth man was much like the third, and the fifth much like the fourth.

The sixth man was just a blatant shaking of my fist against whatever deity might possibly be looking down at me from on high – why should I care? At least that’s what I told myself…

So yes, of course I hide. Shadows are comfortable, if nothing else.


But now the sun is high and the time for hiding is over. My house is like the kiln that stands in my courtyard – temperature rising in preparation for the bread, and I have no water.

I’ve waited long enough.

Yes, I could’ve gone to the well this morning when the shadows were long and the day was still cool. But that would’ve meant going with the rest of Sychar’s women and enduring the weight of their eyes and their words. I’d rather carry a full water jar in the heat of the midday sun than endure that.

And so that is exactly what I’m going to do.

The streets are empty, sun-baked, and silent as I step out of my shadowed house, water jar in my arms. Everyone is inside, making good use of whatever cool the shade can offer.

But sometimes light can hide you better than any shadow possibly could.


That’s it for this week, be sure to come back next week to read the conclusion!

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this story so far in the comments! Does any particular part or phrase stand out to you? How come?

Author: Hannah

Jesus follower. writer. bibliophile. dreamer.

2 thoughts on “From the Shadows – Part 1”

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