Tabletop decorating with Christmas balls and pinecones in a bowl
The woman he loved had her arm outstretched. She was offering him the fruit, the juice still dripping down her chin. The man watched himself take a bite.
It was not her habit to eavesdrop, but when Abraham ran into the tent and said, “Sarah, get out your best flour and bake three loaves of bread, and hurry!,” when she heard him calling the servants to quickly slaughter the calf, she was curious. Who were these men who had appeared out of nowhere, and why was Abraham so eager to entertain them?
She did not like the idea of her husband being with another woman, especially not her maid, and she was glad that part was over. Was it her imagination, or was Hagar patronizing her?
“We have the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?”
He was not a coward. No, not in many things. But he had an irrational fear, a foreboding almost, that someone might kill him to get at Sarah.
Abraham turned to his son, the rope stretched between trembling hands. Isaac looked at his father, and a hoarse whisper escaped his lips, “Father … .”