Can you hear me?
I’m in here somewhere.
Hiding.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
You can’t see me? Where am I?
I’m not really sure. I just know it’s dark, and cold, and lonely- but I’m too afraid to leave my cave.
Living like a hermit, eating nuts and berries and living separate and far away.
I’ve read that some saints were hermits. They came out as Christians, had their tongue cut out (sometimes they just lost a few fingers) and abandoned the sacrilegious modern world to live in a cave somewhere in the woods, quietly worshipping the Lord and making friends with the woodland creatures.
I’ve always thought hermits were just scared.
They were just hiding.
Hiding like me.
I must be really scared, to be hiding for so long.
I have found a really good hiding place. No one’s found me yet- and I’ve been here for years.
Eventually, no one will come after me, yelling, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
Is that what I want?