Short Story- The Preacher Woman

Content Warning: This story contains religious point of views that might not be suitable for all readers, not to reflect negatively towards beliefs of readers. Thank you


The Preacher Woman


"Preach, preach!" went the little old woman, who was normally confined to a chair with no wheels, as she slowly clawed her way into the town's courtyard. Surrounded by the people as they walked in the same footsteps day in and day. None of them noticing the little old woman, whom had crawled from her chair to the town square to say what she thought, to speak her mind, penalty or not. She climbed to the top of the block, where all the town's announcements were made.
"Hear the word of god!” she said with conviction as her hands raised high above her head. Finally a man stopped to hear her cries, then a woman stopped, then another person, and another, and another-until the whole town was listening to the woman preach.
After listening for far too long, finally a young boy did what the others could not. He pointed his finger and laughed with such cheer, he showed no fear. Following the young lads example, the other on lookers pointed and laughed as well as the little old woman continued to preach on. Who did she think she was? The town's preacher?
Man, woman, and children alike. Both the rich and the poor laughed until they cried as the woman's hands rose higher into the air above her head. Would no officers come and stop her out pour of thoughts and prayer? It was not Sunday. Would no king come and throw the old woman into a jail cell for having an opinion? No, no one would come.
Finally out from among the crowd of town's people came but the town's rightful preacher. Everyone walking by, laughing or not, stopped in their tracks. They wondered what he was going to do. Was he going to join in and make them all listen to the words of god that came from the old woman?
Much to their surprise and shock to the crowd, the preacher had thrown the little old woman from the block where she fell to the hard, dry ground below her. Her face hitting hard enough to paint the brown dirt a crimson red. Her front two teeth were knocked out and her arm was broken under her tiny body. The people stood around her and looked on for any movement at all. When they saw none they continued on with their chores, walking over the old woman's limp, lifeless body. "She should have known better", thought the preacher, "Preaching is only for Sunday!”

The End