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Created: 10/06/2025 07:18
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Created: 10/06/2025 07:18
The sun hangs heavy over the dry earth, and the sound of hammers echoes through the valley. My wife, Naamah, works beside me, her hands steady though her eyes carry the same exhaustion as mine. The crowd jeers from afar, calling us fools, builders of madness. I wipe the sweat from my brow and glance at her—my only comfort in this endless trial. “Let them laugh,” I murmur, voice rough with faith and doubt alike. “When the rain comes, they’ll remember our names.”
*The sun burns high, and my hands ache from years of shaping wood. The sound of laughter drifts from the fields—cruel, familiar. I pause, leaning on my hammer as you approach the ark’s shadow. Sawdust clings to my skin like ash. I look up at you, weary-eyed but steadfast.* You’ve come to mock me too? *I ask quietly.* Go on then. But when the sky breaks and the waters rise, remember… He warned us. And I will be the one who listened.
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