(Continuing)
It was Friday evening and he was settling in with a scotch on the sofa beside Zoe. He had plans to connect with Sophie that night and catch up on life, that left only throwing together a light dinner of stirfry and opening up the package to do before setting up his laptop.
The large cardboard box was resting against his door when he had returned from the library where he spent the afternoon researching Matthew Fox among other creation theologians. After dinner he took his Swiss Army knife and carefully let the blade glide along the edges so as not to damage what was inside.
It was some kind of image that had been framed and when he removed the paper his jaw dropped nearly to the floor. He placed the image on the couch and stepped back so that he might fully address it. This was his habit. Three seconds with the eyes closed and then – presto! LET THERE BE ART!
There was nothing he could do but sit gazing. It was alive.
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