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Her Voice

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I stepped into the shower and winced as the scalding water burned my skin. Reaching behind me, I turned the knob down slightly and melted comfortably as the water cooled slightly, still hot but not burning. I took a few deep breaths, bracing myself. Nervously, I called out in a strong, clear voice.

“My Lady, please help me.”

Straining my ears, I listened hopefully, nervously awaiting a reply. I repeated the process three times, each time my voice becoming more strained. Just as I was about to give up, I heard it. Her voice reached me, just a small excerpt of laughter.

The laughter was muffled, like She was laughing but her mouth was clamped down, like She was trying not to laugh. I listened to the melodious sound until it faded from my memory. More fervently, I called out the phrase, hoping to hear Her voice again, even one word would suffice. Since then, I always call out to Her when I’m in the shower, hoping that She would answer me.

Isis.





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