I’m grateful to be a part of the GCD Writer’s Guild where each week we are presented with a writing prompt and a word count. The genre can be whatever you like. This week’s prompt was “Rest” and the word count was an absolutely brutal 250.

The rough, splintered wood scraped against her neck, raw and bleeding. Unable to take another step, she gave in to the weight of her crosspiece, allowing it to push her to the ground. She was surprised at how quickly she became content with just being still. The beam had not lost its weight, but not fighting to lift it was a welcome change of pace for her. 

After a while the air cooled, her sweat dried up, and she took time to examine the large plank fastened around her neck. So much effort went into crafting it, finely shaping it into the exact proportions she could handle.

“It’s of your own design.”
“You can make it whatever you want.”
“Your body, your life, your choice.”

This weight was exactly what she wanted. She had done everything told of her; followed all the rules she was given. So why then, she wondered, was she unable to bear it? She was so certain of what she was getting into. She had calculated every single decision, weighed every single option, and customized this beam to her liking—designed just for her, by her. It fit her neck so precisely, yet now, exhausted, she realized that the weight she had so carefully balanced for so long was not worth it. She wanted out so badly.

Suddenly, she sensed a shadow pass over her closed eyes. Squinting and looking up, she saw a man:

“Yours is much too heavy. Here, take My yoke upon you.”

Photo by Abbie Bernet on Unsplash

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