TITLE: THE WOUNDED BOOK
GENRE: MG Fiction
Just as the morning star rose over Arezzo’s city wall, Bella jumped from her window into the back of the woolman’s cart.
She wriggled herself in between two firm sacks of wool, and pulled her knees up to her chin. It had been easy enough to leap out the window of Uncle’s house.
Had Papa passed as easily through heaven’s gate?
A tuft of wool tickled her nose and she sneezed. She held her breath.
Had the driver heard?
If he threw her off, she would never get to market and back before the bells rang for Terce. The cart slowed. Bella dared not breathe. The cart stopped. She pressed her hands over her mouth and nose, praying she wouldn’t be discovered.
The cart turned the corner and rumbled on.
The rush of Bella’s pent-up breath set stray wool fibers dancing. She caught them, rolled them into balls, and pelted the woolsacks until she stopped fizzling inside.
More carts rattled over the brick-paved streets and Bella sang under her breath. The third time through the Agnus Dei—backwards—she gave a soft bleat of amusement.
"Do all you woolsacks think I’m singing to you? Does every lamb think it’s the Lamb of God? Come, I’ll sing you a psalm.” She crooned three verses and stopped on the Paths of Righteousness.
Well before the Valley of Death.