What Pegman Saw in Quebec: Our Light

This week Pegman takes us to Poisson-Blanc, Quebec, Canada.

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.

Author’s Note: There was something consuming about the light in these trees, the way it bent around them, it was as if this sunlight were reaching down, into me. I hope my flash fiction story reaches down and touches you.

Further Author’s Note: Following three comments about trees and axes on the initial version of my story (Revision A), in the interest of preservation (my readers’ and the trees’) a new version of my story (Revision B) is posted below where no trees are now cut down, only hugged 🙃.


Our Light by Kelvin M. Knight (Revision B)

The blinding sunlight made Charles brake hard, made everyone brake hard. Thankfully, no one was hurt: there was never any chance of that. This sensation washing through him was unbelievable, like being caught in the rain, dancing. Yet his clothes, his skin, were bone dry.

Falling out of his truck, Charles watched people hugging one another, kissing one another, melting into each other. Inside and outside their vehicles, they held hands to their eyes, they flung their arms wide.

Mesmerised, Charles stumbled across the tarmac, into the trees. Touching the bark with his hands, his cheeks, he laughed. This roughness was his truth: the badness that had formed a bark over his soul. No more. Now there was only this light.

‘Our light,’ he croaked.

‘Hallelujah,’ sang the woman with bruised eyes nearby. ‘Amen!’ She held her mobile high for an aerial selfie, her smile adding to this heavenly light.

(150 words)


Our Light by Kelvin M. Knight (Revision A)

The blinding sunlight made Charles brake hard, made everyone brake hard. Thankfully, no one was hurt: there was never any chance of that. This sensation washing through him was incredible, unbelievable, like being caught in the rain, dancing. Yet his clothes, his skin, were bone dry.

Stumbling out of his truck, Charles watched people hugging one another, kissing one another, melting into each other. Inside and outside their vehicles, they held hands to their eyes, they flung their arms wide.

Mesmerised, Charles watched his axe fly into his hands. Hearing it chomping bark, he laughed. Unleashing all his strength felt right: truth within the badness that had formed a crust over his soul. Clearing these trees. Making way for this light.

‘Our light,’ he croaked.

‘Hallelujah,’ sang the woman with bruised eyes nearby. ‘Amen!’ She held her mobile high for an aerial selfie, her smile adding to this heavenly light.

(150 words)


To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own one hundred and fifty word story, click the Blue Frog.

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

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25 thoughts on “What Pegman Saw in Quebec: Our Light

  1. I didn’t think logging at all; I thought it was a group of people (a cult?) moving out into the wilderness and clearing land to build a church. No one likes cutting down trees but it’s pretty much a sad reality of life that trees get cut down for us to build stuff so I don’t know that you need to remove it from your story. Especially not if the ax was a metaphor for your main character ‘cutting’ through something in his life.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. While I understand your symbolic use of the axe in revision A, I much prefer revision B. It’s so much clearer that it is the light that is responsible for his healing, rather than any exercise of his own strength. It’s a smashing story, and has a definite feeling of experiential truth about it.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks dman. It is really interesting how half the people who are commenting drawn to the chopping of the trees. It was meant as a metaphor for finding the strength to chop away at his crust of badness to reveal himself. Not that I am telling you what to think about my story or defending myself. I just find it curious. Always interesting though. Always. Thanks again for reading and commenting and liking.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I, too, thought logger! And hated the fact that all those lovely trees (I live in logging country and the neighbors just cut down a bunch of trees to build a house down the hill from us) would come down. NIce to know your story only plans for one or two to be felled. Delightful take on the bending light.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I hoped it would not be as intense as the Road to Damascus where Paul and only Paul had to re-write his theological approach in a three day coma with Jesus talking to him…. with multiple people being similarly affected at once, I hoped to portray less an end of the world Rapture moment, and more a Holy Spirit moment – which is not restricted solely for ordinands. New life goes where new life goes. Thanks for commenting, Lynn. Hope my (this) comment doesn’t come across as preachy or bossy.

      Liked by 1 person

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