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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Postcards (08/29/05)

TITLE: In Exile From The Beast
By B Brenton


His head throbbed almost sadistically after another attempt to eradicate a constant stream of futile reflection. Slamming his head against the solidness surrounding him was as usual, no help to his teetering ¡°sanity¡±.
Plop, plop, plop. The resonating sound of his only remaining source of nourishment echoed off the walls of the deep cavern. Groping jutted rocks he had never seen with his two eyes, to where the dripping got louder, he curled his kneeling body over and gnawed frantically at his right knuckle, scraped beyond repair and opening up a new avenue of sustenance.
He¡¯d desperately crawled over every inch of his foul hiding spot the last two days ¨C ignoring the panging, the longing, the blunt knife in the middle of his intestines by savagely molesting any part of himself he could easily get into his mouth. Devouring fingernails, skin, scabs and now with half his hand in his mouth occasionally ripping off bits of loose flesh he missed in the raid of his own body yesterday.
He counted this as the better option to surfacing from his exile and taking his chances on the world above. No, there was nothing for him there. Only a gripping fear of instant death for not bearing the mark. That mark. His mark. Even greater was the fear that being imposed to make the choice, he wouldn¡¯t have the willpower to NOT make it easy on himself. To not get the mark. The choice he was sure he¡¯d made for life in the spirit seemed to be lessoning in resonation by the day.
No. He continually reassured himself. He had to hold on. Just another day, another few days and it would be all right. Jesus had a plan right? Jesus had a plan.
As he scrambled over to where the dripping was, he felt something that was not rock (for once) wet and soaking beneath him. He¡¯d long forgotten about these. Scavenged from a boarded up post office prelude to that week when he had been searching for a little hope. Loving greetings from family and friends in exotic locations. A dream compared to what humanity has had to endure for the last few years. When all hope was lost¡­ there was still¡­
Picking up the wet cardboard within his blackened fingers, recently cleaned off by his own saliva he felt it almost weightless in his hand. Breathing in a smell of stale cardboard.
A glimmer of something that was different from despair jumped inside of him. Hollowed sunken eyes overviewed three water soaked cards meshed together and he pretended he could almost make out the words: words of hope¡­ from his savior. Happier times from people that were on the brink of the end of existence, if they were even still alive.
And for a moment he knew that it was truth in its entire entirety. One more day, was promised. And with each day a fulfillment of a greater plan. He ached to be a part of.
He was through with praying that the rocks would fall on him, the ground would swallow him or the water would poison him. This was his gift. His proof, that there were small miracles in such a time of pain and suffering.
Blinded by a sickening hunger, he just didn¡¯t care anymore, frantically shoving bits of cardboard into his mouth, which melted upon contact as though it was manna.
Just one more day, he thought, later taking the shape of a ball, the sound of the constant dripping more like a melody than ever and more filled than he could have imagined he could be. One more day. For Jesus.

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This article has been read 1121 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Brandi Roberts09/06/05
Rather grotesque, but I suppose that was your chosen effect. I like it :) (The morbid person that I am...) Spacing is needed, and remember, when submitting your entries to preview them first, especially when submitting a file. Thanks for sharing!
Jan Ackerson 09/07/05
Hit "Preview" before you post, and you'll be able to see and eliminate the extraneous characters. A very unique approach to "postcards". Chilling and scary.
Julianne Jones09/10/05
A dark piece but with some really good descriptive writing. I found that when I read it the second time, knowing it was based on Revelations, it fell into place for me and didn't seem so dark. And then the last line seemed almost to be filled with hope. Keep on writing and God Bless.
Anita Neuman09/10/05
This is really creepy! But you wrote it well. Definitely worth expanding.
Karen Ward09/10/05
Your descrptive writing was very good, I can 'see' where he was hiding, and 'feel' how desperate he felt. Good job! God Bless, Karen
Debbie Sickler09/10/05
You definitely have some vivid images here! Congratulations on visiting places in your imagination that I haven't yet had the courage to explore in my own! Interesting picture of a very difficult time we as current Christians will fortunatly not have to endure. :)
Jesus Puppy 09/12/05
It seems to run togeter in parts.. maybe spacing, a little editing... I am bad at it myself, come to chat some time we'll talk
Jessica Schmit09/14/05
I found this article incredibly difficult to read. Spacing (as the others pointed out) was lacking, but I also found your writing style to be somewhat mangled. Difficult to follow. Your choice of words seemed disconnected. Nonetheless, you have talent in writing and I'm looking forward to reading some of other articles