"You'll never find happiness in your daydreams. The only way you'll ever be happy is through hard work and the Lord. Now back to work." Sarah's father shoved a broom into her sudsy hand before walking out of the kitchen.
Sarah tried to keep hot tears from spilling down her cheeks, all the while swiping at her nose with the back of a hand. She choked in a sob that turned into a hiccup. "I'll keep my dreams, thank you," she muttered, throwing a dirty cup back in the sink. "And you can have your hard work and your god until you drop dead and go to meet him."
She hadn't heard her father come back into the room, so the swift slap caught her by surprise. It knocked her and several dishes clattering to the floor. She trembled silently as she lay sprawled beside the chair she overturned in the fall.
"I will not have blasphemy in this house!" He trembled with rage. "Your godless ways will cease or I'll rid you of them. Make no mistake, I'll not let your behavior slide like I have in the past. You will obey me, just as God intended."
As Sarah picked herself up off the floor, her father turned away. "Well?" he said toward the corner of the kitchen.
The old man stepped out of the shadows and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Joel," he said. "I don't see the passion, the conviction. She practically had to throw herself at that chair, and the plates didn't even break."
"Maybe with a little practice, the Baptists'll take you. You might even be ready now for the Presbyterians. But you're not right for us. You just ain't gonna get your barn raising."
Opening: Cordia Amant.....Continuation: Anonymous