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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100
WHITHER THOU GOEST
Obed grunted and pushed but could not budge the heavy stone to grind flour.
“You’re too small, son.” Ruth handed him a bundle of sheaves and a mallet. “Here, thresh these for me.”
His eyes shone like starlight reflecting off the sea. Her heart swelled with love for him leaving no room for loneliness.
He pounded the barley kernels. “Tell me about my father.”
Obed’s face bore traces of both Mahlon and Mahlon’s Uncle Boaz, her beloved men, dead and buried. How do I explain Hebrew law regarding husbands and widows to a three-year-old?
“To begin with, you had two.”
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