I’m hoping all you fellow writers will understand, but still, please note that this is a ROUGH draft!! I haven’t gone back to edit anything. I just figured y’all would like a sneak peak. =) In the slim chance I never publish this book and it turns into a bestseller. Yeah, I know the chance is really slim but just in case… So enjoy!

Underneath the shadow of a booth, an ancient man quietly hummed as his foot rose and fell, setting his potter’s wheel swiftly twirling. His deft, wrinkled fingers guided the edges of the clay into smooth, graceful curves. His eyes, though, were closed and a peaceful smile was on his lips.
“Thank you, Elyon,” he whispered.
How long had he been waiting? He could still remember the days of his youth, when songs of praise to Elyon had been sung from the rooftops – had radiated from every face, every smile. The temple of Elyon had been filled with people, carrying gold or a lamb in their arms – returning back to their God the wealth He had blessed them with.
But those days were now distant specks on the road of time. The old man chuckled. Especially with what his sight was nowadays. His eyes could only see shades of brown where once had been shelves of urns and pots and a blur where once had been a pot steadily forming. So he trusted his fingers. And the money kept rolling in, eh?
He laughed again, feeling so, so happy. Although Elyon’s time was never what men expect, by and by – at just the right moment – his promises come to pass.
Finally this fallen city would be shaken. Once the truth is revealed, how can it be hidden? The old man shook his head. No, the truth had never completely disappeared. The people of Bethel had never forgotten Elyon and his covenant, they had just chosen to reject both. Day after day, they streamed to the numerous temples covering the city. This one promised wealth, this one love, this one power, and this one happiness. And they must fulfill their promises – at least so thinks Bethel, the old man thought – because the people lived wealthy and happy lives.
He sighed. One day all they thought they had would fall away to reveal a bleak, empty life. And that day was coming soon.
He felt a stirring in his soul and slowed his foot, brushing wet pieces of clay from his fingers as he opened his eyes and squinted at the street. A bit of white stood still among the bright, moving colors. The old man smiled, then called out, “Hello, boy!”

– Copyright Sarah Ulrich