Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Week(s) (02/10/11)
TITLE: Not One Inch Of "Empty"
By Lisa Fowler
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I saw it all.
Thankfully, they quickly forgot I was there. Good thing too- there are those who would have loved having me for lunch, and not as a guest.
It was dimly lit- gloomy even. Perhaps by design; so the small would be safe from the larger, the weak from the stronger.
It was drafty and cool, chilly almost. There was one window and one door. One very - large - door. There were no cracks or crevices in which to hide, no loose boards to disappear behind.
Every corner- every nook- every stall; behind every door- was crammed and packed- not an inch of vacant space, anywhere. As far as the eye could see there was not an inch of “empty.” And it smelled. It smelled of manure, hot breath, skunk spray, and wet dog.
The youngest ones cried- their first days away from loved ones. Whinnies and whines; growls and grunts; screeches and squeaks; ribbits and roars- ominous sounds at best.
There were the wild eyed- that looked as though they wanted out- and fast. There were wide-eyed wonders, looking as though they wanted to eat- perhaps each other- perhaps the lot of us. Some looked disgusted, and as days turned to weeks, the meek looked as if they had lost it all- and they had.
He called to us. He told us to come. We knew it was Him. There was no doubt. We had all heard His voice- His whisper- His shout. He found us where we were- in jungles, in deserts, in rivers, oceans, and streams. On mountains and hills, and in valleys. From every corner and country He called to us- and we answered. He said go- two by two, and we went. There was no discussion. There were no meetings. No elections. No votes. He chose us. From the fittest among us, He chose. And we obeyed.
When we were in; when we were all in, HE shut the door. The gopher wood trembled and quivered and shuddered at His touch. That instant; that split-second in time, a hush- a deafening silence engulfed the boat. We breathed- again.
I rested. From the highest peak, I rested- unnoticed. I weaved, and I heaved, and I spun. I swung, and I floated, and I drifted, on silver strands from rafters high and wide. Along boards and girders and joists, I watched. And I waited. And I listened. We all listened. For seven long days we listened. We listened for sounds of rain.
Then, it began. Quietly at first. We heard laughter outside. The monkeys mocked. Suddenly, the quiet, occasional pit... pit-a... pit-a-patter turned to thumping, bumping, cracking, and popping. The laughter turned to shouts; the shouts to cries; the cries to silence.
The boat rocked and it swayed. It pitched and it shook. It bowed, and it bent, and it stooped to the will, and honor, and praise of the Creator of all things.
But, not one drop of rain fell inside the ark. Not one, I tell you- not one! And I should know. I was there. I am the spider. The tiniest spider.
I saw it all.
Genesis 7:4 (NKJV)
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