the broken Christmas pitcher page 1 by ric Gustafson
Myron Lindell opened one of his eyes. He could feel snow flakes on them. He closed them again because he hurt so much. He could only remember that a group of young men had chased him into the yard. He opened them again and then tried to look around to see where he was. He could feel snow coming down on his face and then he noticed that he was lying on a mountain of pottery shards. He felt that he could not get up. He closed his eyes to die.
" Son, let me help you get up".
Myron blinked and tried to adjust his eyes to the dark. " The Potter". He had heard rumors over the years about a strange man who lived on the edge of town. He stared at a young dark bearded man who had a white robe on.
" Looks like you have had a busy night".
Myron took the young man's outstretched hand and slowly stood up.
" Let's get you inside the house".
They slowly walked across the pottery sharded ground toward the front door of the plain white house.
research help: original story and ' Mended' by Angie Smith
Peace and God's blessings. Love Ric
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