THE THREE LIVES OF CHRISTINA THE ASTONISHING (#10)

As Told by the Holy Woman in Her Own Words
A Hundred or So Years after the End of the World

I twisted and turned my hands in their metal cuffs. Finally, at the expense of a great deal of skin, I got them loose. But now that my raw, bleeding hands were free, I couldn’t bring myself to catch, kill and eat the hawks, owls, wrens, other birds, and assorted wildlife I shared the canopy with, merged as I was into the intricate thickets of their thoughts—most of which, unfortunately for my peace of mind, involved catching, killing and eating. Nothing edible grew on the forest floor far below, thickly carpeted with dead pine needles—no bulbs,  fungi, or acorns of any kind. So I set myself to remembering with all my heart and soul exactly what being in the world of Light and Love had felt like, and that was when the miracle happened:  warm wet liquid welled at the tips of both my breasts. Two dark stains were spreading on my tunic. When I peeked underneath, I saw my nipples were oozing a thin white fluid. I dabbed at one and licked my finger.
Milk?
I dabbed and licked, dabbed and licked, but I couldn’t get enough that way so I began squeezing each breast into my cupped hand. I drank the milk in eager gulps, spilling it in my haste. A few minutes of feeding this way satisfied me completely and I sank at once into a deep sleep.
When I opened my eyes next morning, the rising sun was turning the tree trunk dusky red through the thick filter of branches. The pain in my rib was gone. Cautiously I examined myself. No trace of the wound remained. The skin on my wrists had completely healed.
A single grey bullet lay in the dirt next to me—my indestructible mortal body had expelled it.
But oh Giver, I was hungry! Burrowing into the rich topsoil in my giant redwood’s hollow, I found a nest of small pink earthworms whose life energies I sensed but whose thoughts, if they had any, I could not detect.
Begging their forgiveness, I ate them every one.

(to be continued tomorrow)