FathomOnline

 

 Fathom 2001

Cover

 

Inside Cover

 

Poetry

Gillian Brown (2)
Jessica Moore (2)
Annie Clifford
Paromita Admikari
Erin Whitmore
Wesley J. Furlotte
Aaros
Morgan Dambergs
Angelene T. Hutt (2)
Laura Kingdon
Sarah “Felloway” Feltham
Lauren Kirshner
Stephen O’Brien
Solange Hupe (2)
Nicholas Munroe
Steven Wendland

Prose

Valentyna Galadza
Neil Terry

Drawings and Photos

Marybeth Carty (3)
Emily Comeau
Jessica Moore (2)
Peter Herbert Langille (2)

[PDF]

Neil Terry

 

 

If Beauty’s Religion...

The autumn sunlight gleamed through open windows, staining the smooth, ancient stones below with hues of red and gold. Candles, thick as pillars, aligned the wide oak panels of the walls, wax forming a decorative skirt around each base.

A single beam of light touches a solitary object in the midst of all this glory. The soft billow­ing sheet, which held it in its warm embrace, was embroidered with scenes of summers since past and of heavens kissed with stars. The four posts standing guard at each corner were adorned with shimmering bulbs, plated with silver and gold. The object of which I speak is a bed of such welcoming structure that it seemed to wink knowingly at those who have grown weary of toil and strife.

The two heavy oak doors looming over the stone steps of the old Spanish church burst open in exalted joy, allowing a gale of warm wind to bless the pipes of the organ hidden in back and tickled the nose of the Christ child himself.

And there they stood. She held herself in a confident, erect posture, as if held upright, like a marionette, by the strings of an angel. Crimson flowers, fresh cut the day before, lay entwined in the chestnut tendrils of her hair, which lightly caressed her silk-clad back. He adjusted to a song so sweet and joyous that the shutters of the surrounding houses were thrown open so as to hear such jubilant sounds. Although they saw the world through differ­ent eyes, they shared the same idea of beauty and began to make their way to the bed await­ing them.

His thin, frail body broke into a run, his coarse sandy hair a torrent about his head. His hand enclosed her delicate fingers as they leapt together on to the billowing spread. They laughed together, such hearty laughter, choosing not to speak, as there are no words to express such love. He kissed her forehead and, together, they fell...

 

last updated August 17, 2007 | © 2007 Fathom Publishing
poetry, prose, and artwork © individual authours | website created by Alana Paul