The Dragon looked through the window, its lips dripping with drool. She was becoming more its play-thing every day and she did not even know it. Wynne took one last look at the flat where her dreams with her husband, Vaughan, and her small son, Caedmon, were to have come true. "This is not my fault," she told herself. Stiffening her back she took her son's hand and left her husband's home. She did not look back again.
The Dragon spread its wings and flew off in the direction it knew the young woman was taking her son. Fatherlessness that was its goal and it had accomplished it once again. The small boy must never know of the unseen Lord's love. It would make sure of that.
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A new spiritual allegory in the vein of Pilgrims Progress
- John Byng