This is the first part of a rough draft I am working on for a submission to Science Fiction and Fantasy Magazine - it is still rough and unfinnished but its all i have for you today - sorry I am not in the mood to post more but at least this is a little different - I will republish the complete story in a few days.
When they came for me I was in the back yard digging potatoes. My hands were dirty-numb from thumbing off the wet cold mud before I put each one into the bushel basket my father had left for me. It was a grey sky. My subconscious silence matched the flat acreage that stretched out before me. Dampness seeped through my hands and up my arms as I stood on the open earth. The last of the insects ticked weakly in the broken fall grass that surrounded the garden. The grass stretched out down the hill and through the fields and rail fences to a distant lake that defined the horizon. Cool air seeped silently up the hill towards me and awoke the tip of my nose; making it run just enough to warrant a smudge of grit from the back of my hand.

I was three days into the crop, and had more than two to go. I dug listlessly spearing large healthy white potatoes with my fork and guiltlessly tossing the damaged ones into the grass unseen. With contempt of responsibility and purpose; I yearned for my time to be my own, if only to waste it away. I was smitten with selfish pity and could see no value in my father's plea of purposeful task making.

I had been waiting for them. They were the perfect distraction to unchain me from the prison of my deed. They came for me from behind and I had little time to respond to their showing. The silence of the day resonated inside my head and I sensed the crowd at my back. My jaw set at the sight of them and I dropped my potato fork at my feet, feeling it hit the steel toe cap of my boot. They touched my mind quickly and it expanded to a size more vast than any concept. My consciousness opened up into the landscape and my posture swayed as I tried to adjust to the change within me. They encircled me and we moved as a mass into the dry dead grass of the field. Their close proximity helped me to compose my balance enough to stagger weakly with them down the hillside.

An instant of their time defined an eternity of what I had known. I was touching the belly of a God and drawing upon its power. We marched foolishly in the broken grass as I adapted to my new insight. Drinking in the power; I was dying as we walked. God was real; I could see him coming at me over the horizon from the lake. Their hands brushed over me reassuringly. My excitement fought with the calmness they exuded.