Hire
Writers
Editors
Home Tour About Read What's New Help Forums Join
My Account Login
Shop
Save
Support
E
Book
Store
Learn
About
Jesus
  

Four Ways For A Christian Writer To Win A Publishing Package HERE



The HOME for Christian writers! The Home for Christian Writers!



 
Short Stories PLEASE ENCOURAGE THE AUTHOR BY COMMENTING

  LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE   SEND A PRIVATE MESSAGE
  HIRE THIS WRITER
REPORT ARTICLE

 TRACK THIS AUTHOR ADD TO MY FAVORITES
corner
What's New
 
corner
 
One Stroke to Midnight 4
by Julie Michaelson
01/05/12
For Sale
Author requests article critique


  Mail
 





So
the devils
besought Him,
saying
If Thou cast
us out,
let us
go away
into
the herd
of swine.
[Matthew 8:31]
****************
Time: During the Third Year of the Tribulation.
Place: Outside a small
house, on a tiny lawn,
and under an untrimmed scrubbly tree:
Someplace,
USA.
Characters: Two Lower-
Quadrant angels, Briggund and Sylvestor.
Two Lesser Demons,
Darth and R2D2. One
very anxious, and
supposed-to-be-on-a-diet pot belly pig: Zorba.

(In the last story,
Briggund and Sylvestor
had come to rescue
Elena, who was about
to go to her company's
HR department to get
666 tattooed on her
forehead.)
______________
"How long ya gonna
TAKE,
ELENA?"
(Briggund's voice,
coming from outside
Elena's front lawn,
was sounding a little
impatient and worried.
And, angels aren't
supposed to ever sound
worried.....OR,
impatient.)

"You fellas can come
INSIDE.....! It's cold
and RAINY, out THERE!"
(Elena's voice was coming from inside a
small, gray brick house;
it had once belonged to
her mother, who had
vanished mysteriously
3 and half years before.)

(Briggund yelled back.
He was irritably waving away Sylvestor,
who was woefully nodding 'Yeah! Lets!' at him.)
"Uh, UH! We CAN'T!
ANGELS aren't ALLOWED INSIDE
HOUSES! It's one 'a
the RULES!"

(Elena yelled back;
she seemed preoccupied with something.....or........
someone.)
"Who's going to KNOW? There's nobody HERE, but me
and ZORBA!"

(Outside, under Elena's
front yard tree, which
badly needed trimming,
the two angels
just looked at one another:
neither were smiling. Briggund
answered in a yell through the rain; it was
now pouring steadily,
and the temperature
had dropped rapidly.)
"WELL......our SUPERVISOR WILL
FIND OUT! It's OKAY! No WORRIES!"

(Elena yelled back;
her voice was coming
from the rear of the
small house, most likely
the little back bedroom.)
"Yeah! I UNDERSTAND!
I know about SUPERVISORS!
They're a PAIN,
AREN'T THEY?
But.....YOU have that
little puddle of warm LIGHT,
around you......DON'T
YOU?"

(Briggund looked over
at his angel-buddy
again, and rolled his
big round eyes, dramatically. Then,
he shivered and sneezed. A big cold
raindrop slipped down
his non-aquiline nose.)
"WELL!"
(Sneeze.)
"NO........that PUDDLE A'
WARM LIGHT is ONLY used ...
..for when HUMANS are AROUND! It's to
comfort, and CHEER
THEM UP! It's....."
(Loud sneeze.)
".....not FOR US!"

(Elena didn't yell back
anything for a moment;
she seemed to be speaking to someone else.
It sounded as if
she were pleading with
somebody, who was being very cranky to wake up.
Then, she finally spoke up.)
"OH!
OH, NO!
I didn't KNOW THAT!
In those PICTURES...
GABRIEL is inside
MARY'S HOUSE,
and HE'S ALWAYS
UNDER A REAL BIG LIGHT!"

(Briggund stood shivering under Elena's
scruffy Texas-grown
tree, wishing its brown-
green tiny leaves were
slightly bigger, and sheltering.
Sylvestor was beside him, wringing out his
soaked halo; he figured
it needed a good washing anyway, being
it was always rather
dusty and dirty.)
"Who: ya mean.....
GABRIEL.....? Oh......
well........"

(Sylvestor snorted a
loud giggle,
and rolled his big
brown eyes; his small,
sparse lashes were dripping wet.
Briggund poked Sylvestor
in his lopsided wing, and gave
him a look, and then
pointed up to the sky.)
"WELL.........."
(Sigh: neither heavenly
nor calm.)
"Well..........GABRIEL'S
kinda'......NOT in our
LEAGUE......!"
(Briggund began laughing quietly, and
then glanced at Sylvestor, again.)
"I think we only see
him once 'a YEAR:
in the Christmas
CAROLING PROGRAM!"

(Sylvestor snorted again,
and then started
giggling really loudly
into his grayish-white
long gown. The gown
was usually gray, but
the rain was acting like
a good box of soap duds.)

{Suddenly, a loud,
unwelcomed call
came from behind Elena's recycle bin,
in the tiny cubby-hole
beside the house's
half-size garage: it
was nasal, high-pitched,
and ill-mannered-sounding.}
"HEY, SYLVESTOR!
WHAT D'YA GUYS
DOIN' OUT IN HERE...
IN THE POURIN' RAIN?"
{Snicker.}

{Another call, this
one much higher
and sarcastic in tone.}
"YEAH!
WHAT ARE YUN'S* DOIN' OUT THERE, ANYWAY?"
{Laugh.}
"TAKIN' A BATH?"

(The two angels froze.
Sylvestor hiccuped, and then
whispered; he always
got the hiccups when
he was scared.)
"Uh, oh."

(Briggund yelled back.)
"HEY!
GET OUT A' HERE,
DARTH! WE'RE ON
an..... ASSIGNMENT!
YOU GUYS BETTER
SCAT!"

{Two little creatures waddled
over from behind the recycle
bin; the taller one was shorter
and plumper than Sylvestor:
a miniature, upright rhinoceros,
with little beaty orange eyes,
and orange-tinted horns protruding
on the sides of his over-sized head.
He wore a black leather jacket, blue jeans,
and black leather boots. A little badge,
(embroidered like a Girl Scout badge)
with a likeness of Darth Vader from
Star Wars, was sewn rather
sloppily onto the right side of
his leather jacket. His friend
was even shorter, and wore a
tie-dyed tea shirt, baggy cotton
trousers, and mountain climbing
boots; he had little fangs
protruding from his slippery-looking mouth,
and was distinguishable with his three
pretty, round eyes, each a different color:
purple, green and baby-blue.}
"ASSIGNMENT?
ASSIGNMENT...............?
To do WHAT: count all those
M&M's in your POCKET?"
(Both of the little creatures
burst out laughing.)

(Briggund frowned, miserably;
this latest Earthly mission was
slowly going downhill, fast: they
were standing out in the middle
of pouring cold rain while their
human-charge had disappeared
into her little strange-looking
Earth house .....doing God's-know-what......and, now,
their worst-friends had shown
up, from God-knew-where.
Momentarily forgetting his
important assignment....and,
Archangel Michael's tutoring....
Briggund shouted back at the
demon.)
"GIMME BACK MY SWORD,
DARTH! GIVE IT BACK**!"

"YEAH!
MAYBE!
I'VE GOT IT HIDDEN!
IN ONE'A MY CAVES!
But, FIRST, you guys gotta
TELL us what you're UP to!
And....SECOND......"
{Darth held two of his lumpy
green fingers.)
".......YA GOTTA GIMME that
bag a' M&M's in y'ur POCKET!"

(Sylvestor whispered in Angel-
Speak; his messy hair was
at least getting clean now, with
all the sparkling cold rain.)
"Pssst! How he KNOW?"

(Briggund whispered back;
by now he had totally forgotten
what their mission was - and
why they weren't nice and safe
and warm up in the fencing-practice-room,
hiding their little bag of snacks in
their fencing-practice-wing-pads.)
"Darth's gotta special little-demon sense
a' SMELL, especially with CANDIES!"

{The smaller Lesser-Demon
trotted up closer to Sylvestor;
his smell was so bad that a little
fog followed him around: the
color of the pea-soup.
R2D2 always laughed a little,
while he spoke.}
"Hey, SYLVESTOR!
ONE 'A YUR WING'S IS DROOPING! HA! HA!
Y'UR A REAL MESS!
YOU LOOK LIKE A BIG FAT
WET DOG!
HA! HA!"

(Sylvestor blew a raspberry
at the tiny demon, and bunched
up both of his plump fists.)
"GET LOST, R2D2!
GET LOST!
GO AWAY!
THIS AIN'T NONE 'A YOUR
BUSINESS!"

{R2D2 trotted up, even closer;
by now his bad breath fog
was clinging to the scrubbly
branches of Elena's badly-needed-to-be-trimmed
south Texas tree.}
"What's goin' ON?
What r' you DOIN' out
here.....outside this dumb,
pokey HOUSE? WHO are
ya tryin' to PROTECT,
ANYWAY......one a' these
TREE FROGS?
HA! HA!"

(Sylvestor blew another
raspberry; the wind from
the blowing rain just blew it
back in his plump face. By
now all the feathers in his
wings were matted wet, and
smelling like R2D2's breath.
He bunched up his fists again,
and waved them at R2D2's
little orange-tinted fat cheeks.)
"If you don't get OUTTA
here, there's gonna be a
FIGHT!"

{Darth, who was edging closer
and closer: his black leather
boots hiding his tiny webbed-
orange feet.}
"YEAH!
HA! HA!
FEATHERS are gonna FLY!
Now....TELL US what's goin'
ON! And GIVE US that bag'a
M&M's!"

(Briggund put his hand into
his deep gauzy pocket. He
had to get these demons out
of here; in spite of their
miniature size they were
fierce fighters, and more
than capable of luring a human's
attention away from the Love
of the Lord; all humans were
given the gift of choice: to
do good or evil. Briggund,
his palm holding the bag of
candy in his pocket:
whispered.)
"QUIET, Sylvestor!
No FIGHTING!
We got a JOB to do!
They're just tryin' to
DISTRACT us!"

{Darth came closer,
and sneered.}
"YEAH?
And.........."
{Darth jumped up in the air,
and hung there; Earth's
gravity didn't have any effect
on demons, particularly the
smaller ones. Darth was
now nose-to-nose with the taller,
frizzy-blond haired angel.}
".....just WHAT little
STUPID job.... is THAT?"

Suddenly, there was an unexpected shaft of light,
and an ear-piercing noise,
It didn't come from the Heavens, or from Archangel
Michael, or any of the other
warriors in the Angelic-Realm.

It came from the front door,
which had been left open by
a slit.

It came from a black
and white spotted, pink pig:
a pot-belly-one, and one that was
supposed-to-be-on-a-diet.

Demons don't like pigs. They
have a long history with them....
and they don't particularly
like them. Truth to be known:
they are actually afraid of them.

Darth fell off his crouching
position in the air. He slammed-
dunked into the wet hard south
Texas grass: getting a handful
of piney-harsh grass tips in his
blue-jeaned bottom. He cussed
loudly, and turned tail: his
real tail, an orange and green
tinted one, sliding slippery along
the wet dirt as he began
trotting back over to the safety
of Elena's recycle bin. His
little buddy, R2D2, began
yelling back at the overweight,
pet pig, and then scampered
away: his mountain hiking boots
becoming untied, and making
him trip over his own webbed-
feet.

(Sylvestor blew another raspberry in the demonites'
direction.)

(Briggund punched the bag
of M&M's open, and began
tossing them in the air: hitting
both the demons' horned heads
between their little orange
ears.)
"YAY!
YAY!
YAHOOOOOO!
YAHOOOOO!"

{R2D2 managed to blow
a raspberry back at Sylvestor,
before being grabbed by the
scruff of his neck, by Darth,
and getting dragged back
behind the huge green bin.}
_____________________
A human voice spoke up.
"ZORBA!
QUIET!"
(Elena came out the door,
holding the squirming, over-weight pet pig. Then she
stepped back from the pelting rain. The pig was wearing
a little pink and white embroidered pot-belly-pig sweater;
over the sweater was a bright pink embroided collar
and leash: running up and down the collar and leash
were little pink and white pot-belly-pigs. It also had
on a bright pink little winter-hat, but it was slipping
off to one side, about to fall off.)
"What's going ON,
out there?"

(Briggund threw the last
of the Heavenly blue and white, cloud-shaped M&M's, and then frowned: woefully. It had been the last candies in his gown pocket.)
"Oh......NOTHIN!
It was just a couple 'a ole' DEMONS! We chased 'em
OFF! Are ya READY?
Me and Sylvestor gotta get
back to New Jersey to look
for that darn MAP!"

(Elena, still holding squirming, squealing Zorba in her arms, stepped back out into the pouring rain. She yelled.)
"WHAT?
DEMONS........?"

(Sylvestor bent over to pick
up one of the blue M&M's
from the wet grass. He blew
on it to dry it off some, and
then popped it into his mouth.
Then he grabbed two more,
one white and one blue, and
handed them to Briggund,
who was rather disappointed:
those chocolates were his
favorites; he was waiting to
eat them after they had
finished their Big Assignment,
and were headed back to the
warmth and safety of their
cloud-cots at the Fencing
Academy.)
"Yeah!
Ya know: from Satan!
But, we chased 'em off!
No worries!
Me and Briggund are very
specially-trained Warrior-Angels from the
Tenth- Lower-Quadrant-Briggade!
We're FIGHTERS!"

(Briggund put his be-halo'ed
blond head back, to toss down
the chocolates. Then he remembered his manners.)
"Do ya WANT some? They're
a little WET!"

(Elena didn't respond. Her
face had turned white, and
she was open-mouthed again:
just as she was when Sylvestor
and Briggund first appeared.)
"You mean......REAL ones?"

(Briggund was now kneeling
in the grass: searching here
and there for the tossed candies.)
"Yeah.
You WANT some? They're
a little wet from the grass!
But, still GOOD!"

(Elena's mouth dropped
another inch. She slid down
to the damp door mat of her
tiny front porch;
Zorba, slippery, snorting,
and already mud-covered from darting out
in the rain, trotted around and
then went to sit in her mistress's lap. The rain was
now starting to let up, a bit.)

(Sylvestor sighed, plum-tuckered,
and squinted wearily over at his human-charge;
he had been ready to leave this awful Earth a least a couple of hours ago. He was already thinking of his pale-blue heat-blanket (with four temperature-settings)and cloud-soft pillow, on his cloud-cot of the Fencing Academy; why any angel in his right mind would want to come down, through
the Three Lower Atmospheres, was a huge Mystery.)
"Which one 'a us....do you
want to carry ZORBA?
Briggund here is a little bit
stronger than me! Maybe
you should fly with HIM, okay?
I can put Zorba on my BACK!"

(Elena, still mouth agape, looked
up at Sylvestor with her big
pretty hazel eyes.)
"You mean.........
there's REAL ONES?"

(Briggund popped another
M&M in his mouth. It tasted
of tree-frog, but it was still
okay.)
"What: demons?"
(He looked over at his mousy-brown-haired,
lopsided-halo'ed friend, and shrugged his own big shoulders. Both of his wings were soaked through, and still smelled of R2D2's breath.)
"Yeah!
Oh, sure!
Are you READY? You
don't need to take any 'a
your STUFF! Maybe, just
a blanket for ZORBA! She
might get nervous, with all
the FLYING and all!"

(Elena leaned forward on the old brown door mat; Zorba didn't like all the fuss out here, out of her cozy warm house, and
began squealing even louder, and squirming more. She wanted to trot back inside, but.... wanted to stay here with her mistress; she wasn't sure what to do. Her mistress spoke up,
again: her usually sweet voice sounded alarmed and upset.)
"You mean........like,
SATAN?
Like..........HELL?"

"YEAH!"
(Sylvestor was starting to
get sleepy; Earth's atmosphere
was so heavy, from all the
sin and evil, that it took him
six times as much breath to
keep from floating back upwards.
He yawned.
Then, he yawned once more.)
"Uh, huh!
Well.......are ya READY?
You don't need y'ur COAT,
or nothin'! As long as y'ur
with US......you'll be warm!
Just don't look DOWN;
you wouldn't fall, anyway!"

(Elena sat forward, again.
She suddenly felt weak in the
knees, and still didn't want to
stand up. Zorba was now
pacing back and forth, on the
tiny patio; her hooves making
little clickedy-click sounds
on the cold cement porch.)
"You mean.......there's
PEOPLE who really go to
HELL?"

(Sylvestor and Briggund looked over at each other: their
big round eyes staring, cluelessly. This was startin' to get out of their forte. They were more comfortable yelling,
and throwing M&M's at Darth and R2D2. They just shrugged their wet shoulders.... their dripping wings bouncing up and down a bit....and nodded their big heads. Sylvestor's lopsided halo fell off; it was unaccustomed to all the dampness. Briggund's halo was bigger, and a bit stronger. The angels both spoke up, at the same time.)
"YEAH."

(Elena stared at the cement,
and leaned against the narrow
porch column of her house. She
didn't say anything, at first.
Then she looked up; Zorba was
quiet for a moment, too, and
just sniffed and snorted, busily.)
"You mean...there's really
......a HELL?"

(The angels just looked at
Elena, cluelessly, and nodded:
shrugging their shoulders again.
Sylvestor reached up and
started patting his brown
curly mess, reaching here and
there for his halo: acting like
a human that's just dropped
their contact lens. Then he
squinted, and began looking
down at his begowned chest:
patting here and there.
Then, he reached back over to
his sodden wings; the lopsided
one's feathers were sticking
out in all directions: several
twigs and wet leaves were
stuck like glue, to the off-color
feathers.)

(Elena's voice was getting
squeaky, and shaky.)
"But HOW come there's
HELL?"

(Slyvestor and Briggund were
now on their knees: not praying,
but squinting and feeling about
for Sylvestor's halo. The rain
had obviously caused its weak
light to go out, and it was hard
to see in the grass: angels'
eyes weren't made for the
dimness of Earth's cursed
atmosphere. Briggund looked
up for a moment; he hadn't
discovered the halo yet, but
had just found another light
blue M&M.)
".....for the LOST....."
(Briggund popped the candy
into his mouth. Then he began
crawling on his knees again.)

(Elena sounded anxious,
just as she had been kneeling
on the empty parking lot hours
earlier.)
"But.......HOW do you
NOT be........LOST?"

(Angel voices: in unison.)
"YOU get..... FOUND!"

"HOW?"

(Sylvestor was really getting nervous, and beginning to sweat
under his already soaked tunic. If he showed up back at the Main Office without his halo, Archangel Michael could put
him on suspension: which would mean Throne Room duty for the
next six months. Everybody hated Throne Room duty because the rules were really strict: swords, wings, and tunics had to be pristeen at all times, choir practice was at 6 o'clock sharp at every morning, no sleeping was allowed on the Green Room couches or floor cushions, no bedroom slippers or sandals or even dusty bare feet were tolerated,
Only-Ancient-Hebrew was spoken, and worst of all.......absolutely......
no chocolate candy....of any......
kind.)
"HUH? Eh.........
you'll need to talk to the LORD,
about that."
(Why hadn't the LORD sent
GABRIEL? Gabriel was a lot
better at stuff like this.
Sylvestor looked over at his
buddy, who was sitting in the
wet grass with a handful of
M&M's in his lap.)
"Maybe you should talk to the
LORD......while me and Briggund
go on searchin' for my HALO....
OKAY?"

"Well......what do I DO?
What do I SAY?"

(Briggund sat with his back
against Elena's tree: munching
on another candy. If they
got back without Sylvestor's
halo in tow, he could get put
on suspension, also. That
would mean Throne Room Duty
and no M&M's for the next
six months.)
"WELL........."
(Briggund stopped munching.
He and his halo-less buddy
gave each other a meaninful
look.)
"Well.......from our EXPERIENCE......it helps if
you get on your KNEES,
first...."

(Sylvestor frowned, and
scratched his damp, soggy his head.
It felt weird without his halo: sort of like a human
without his car.)
"YEAH!
And, make sure your WINGS
are folded UP!"

"YEAH!
And, don't MUMBLE,
or TALK outta TURN!
And.....make SURE y'ur
GOWN is all FOLDED....
CAREFULLY around your
TOES! And, your FEET
GOTTA be BARE! THAT'S
A GIVEN! No SOX or
SLIPPERS......whatsoever!
And.......SPEAK CLEARLY!
CAN YA SPEAK ANY Ancient-HEBREW?"

(Elena was chewing worriedly
on a thumbnail; she was beginning to
resemble Sylvestor - sans - sans-halo.)
"Well........NO...........
But....I can speak some SPANISH.......I learned it
in fourth GRADE....."

(Angel voices: in unison.)
"THAT MIGHT HELP!"

(Briggund sat up, for one
moment. He was petting the
tree-frog that liked to hop
about Elena's scraggly tree.)
"Oh!
I FORGOT!
One THING!
You gotta TALK to the
LORD JESUS,
first!"

"Yeah!"
(Sylvestor was rubbing his right big bare toe; he had just stubbed it on a small, sharp rock. He hated Earth; why the LORD wanted to SAVE this place, was a Mystery.)
"LORD JESUS
is the Only Way....."

(Briggund chimed in: with
a loud voice neither musical nor
melodious.)
".....to
The
Father!"
***********************
So
shall it be
at the
end
of the
world:
the angels
shall
come forth,
and
sever
the wicked
from among
the just,
And
shall cast
them
into the
furnace
of fire:
there shall
be wailing
and gnashing
of teeth.
[Matthew 13:49-50]


*A regional variation of
'you guys'; specifically
heard in Pittsburgh,
USA.
**On their last Earth mission,
the two angels had gotten into
a fist-fight with Darth.....and
the miniature, green and orange
rhino had jumped on top of
Briggund, and stolen his sword.


Copyright 2012.


If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW

Read more articles by Julie Michaelson or search for articles on the same topic or others.


Read More - Free Reprints, Main Site Articles, Most Read Articles or highly acclaimed Challenge Articles. Read Great New Release Christian Books for FREE in our Free Reads for Reviews Program. Christian writers can JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and help spread the Gospel.


The opinions expressed by authors do not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.

Hire a Christian Writer, Christian Writer Wanted, Christian Writer Needed, Christian Content Needed
Find a Christian Editor, Hire a Christian Editor, Christian Editor, Find a Christian Writer
 
corner
Corner
This article has been read 253 times     < Previous | Next >


Member Comments
Member Date




TRUST JESUS TODAY














Free Audio Bible
500 Plus Languages
Faith Comes By Hearing.com