From Dark Places Read Online Free

hers.
    “Darling, don’t be like this. Look, humanity needs this. It needs another visionary. Someone bold, daring, someone with an idea that will change the world.”
    “It’s different now. It’s not the same as it used to be.”
    “It should be easier than ever.”
    He caressed the back of her hands with tiny circles of his thumbs. “I don’t know beloved. It always ends up in a huge war or a new religion. Neither do any good. And there are the rules to remember too.”
    “Don’t worry about those. One little change and no-one will notice. They’re old and stupid anyway. I do take your point about the religion or war thing though. That’s why I was so pleased with Mao.”
    “That was just religion in another form,” he muttered.
    “Darling, you’re bored too, you just won’t admit it. You used to find it so much fun. Remember–”
    “Don’t bring him up again,” he warned and pulled his hands away from hers. “That was just freakish. That bloody Peter… he just went on and on about it…”
    She laughed. “What about Constantine? He was interesting.”
    He shrugged.
    “Oh come on.” She sat back. He knew she was thinking of her next exhibit, she wouldn’t let this rest. “What about Genghis?”
    “Good grief, no!”
    “Charlemagne?”
    “He couldn’t even read. I don’t know why you were so pleased with him.”
    She shrugged. “He was enterprising, despite his limitations. I know one you’ll remember liking; Shankara.”
    He blinked. “Which one was that?”
    She tutted. “Chishti then. He was charming. You know, the Sufi.”
    This time he shrugged. “I’m sorry beloved, but I just don’t want to see more death and fanaticism.”
    “It’s not our fault!” she said peevishly. “It’s not like we interfere once it starts.”
    “Oh, go on then.” He threw his hands into the air. “I know there’s no talking you out of this. What did you have in mind?”
     
    “She’s going to do it!”
    “Shhh.”
    “Why? It’s not like she can hear us.”
    He frowned. “Because I want to be able to hear her.”
    They stood in an average suburban kitchen, watching a woman read the recipe.
    “I love this part, darling, don’t you? When she decides whether to try it or not. I bet she’s thinking; ‘Is this real? How could it work?’”
    He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Yes, but it’s harder to find women who’ll try it these days. It was so much easier when there were wise women who’d sell them a fertility recipe for a goat. Still, there are few people more desperate than an infertile woman who wants a child.”
    “She’s already decided, she left the bowl of water out last night. One more cup of tea and then she’ll start. I bet you she will.”
    He squeezed her hand. “I won’t bet. I agree; one more cup.”
    The woman put the kettle on and they laughed. Moments like this made him so happy, the way they could share the minutiae of events leading to a Creation. All that potential being brought into the world, there was nothing better.
    “Okay, Pammy,” the woman muttered to herself. “Nothing to lose. The worst that happens is I make an awful cake. And the best… well, let’s hope for a boy. No a girl. Actually,” she looked up at the ceiling, “actually, Universe, I don’t mind if it’s a boy or a girl, I just want a healthy baby.”
    They watched the kettle click off and Pammy make a cup of tea. She sipped and read until she knew the instructions off-by-heart and the tea was gone. With a sigh she put the cup in the sink and disappeared out the back door, returning with a large bowl of water from the garden, placing it on the kitchen table.
    “Right,” she said, going to the pantry for a basket of goods, setting it next to the bowl and smoothing the piece of paper on the table top.
    “One pint of water that has caught the first rays of sunlight on midsummer morning—check. The heart of an unopened rose— check. Two pounds of flour milled by a