Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Search Engine (10/06/11)
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TITLE: An Analogy! | Previous Challenge Entry
By Danielle King
10/19/11 -
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Alone, she watched the sea throw spray high into the air as it crashed onto the rocky outcrop; her tangled thoughts clamouring for attention as she grappled with the monster. The one that disturbed her most.
This recent revelation had ripped her delicate disposition to shreds.
The wind hissed mockingly as it skirted the shingles and teased the waves.
“Phoney! … Impostor!” There was no escape now. She wasn’t the woman she believed herself to be. Not anymore.
Jane shuddered all over. Looking around at the spectacular rugged coastal wilderness, it occurred to her that neither did she know WHERE she was! The cab driver had no problem finding the location; somewhere on the Western Coastline in a B&B named, ‘Leprechaun’s Hidey-Hole,’ … Courtesy of Mr Google!
When her son enrolled her onto a course, ‘Computing for seniors,’ Jane had been apprehensive.
“For heaven’s sake Jack,” she told him. “I’ve managed all these years without a computer. Why would I need to start now?”
“Mum, it’s the way forward. You really need to keep up Duchess.” Jane rolled her eyes, remembering the first time she was asked for her post code and the counter assistant replied with her address.
“How could you know that?” She’d asked incredulously. Now she felt ashamed to admit just how attached she’d become to this inanimate object. Or was it? Each time she lifted the lid intelligent life sprang forth from somewhere inside.
This dubious intelligence bore sole responsibility for introducing Jane to the lush countryside of the Emerald Isle. Her dear friend Mr Google’s advice was always right! Wasn’t it?
‘Embark on a wonderful voyage of self- discovery.’ It read. ‘Sometimes the best way to get to the bottom of your Irish ancestry is to travel to Ireland and discover it for yourself with the help of the locals.’
“Well why not mum?” Jack had asked. “Who knows, we may have royal blood in our veins.” Jane busied herself preening in anticipation of, ‘becoming someone.’ The trip was booked the following day.
Oh dear! The Donegal Ancestry with its impressive genealogy database and helpful staff didn’t live up to expectations. The information it provided was obviously flawed in spite of assurances to the contrary.
No, Jane was a fine upstanding pillar of the community and had served on the church committee for as long as she cared to remember. She simply MUST have descended from, ‘good stock.’ These people were respectfully mistaken! The locals would definitely know better.
And now, in the queerest, ‘pub,’ albeit a front living room of the B&B, with a couple of pumps, bottles of spirits and some hard backed chairs, Jane learned the full meaning of, ‘Community Oriented’ as she listened to Irish Folklore that spanned generations.
Taking a large gulp of the Guinness that was thrust into her hand Jane pondered on how she could possibly speak at the church, ‘Ladies Group’ again? And how would the ‘WI’ respect her if they knew who she really was? But most calamitous, wasn’t she also a local councillor campaigning tirelessly in the village community to have gypsies and Irish travellers evicted from parkland nearby!
Jack’s phone rang,
“What! You’re telling me we’re Irish Tinkers?” Jack guffawed into the phone. “That’s really cracked me up Duchess. How amazing is that!”
“Shush! Keep your voice down Jack!” Jane turned off the mobile. She needed to scheme.
Opening up the laptop she stared hard. No search engine was going to solve this one! Fresh air, that’s what she needed, to clear the head.
Striding briskly along the cliff top she strived to rid her conscience of the word, ‘PRIDE.’ It refused to budge! ‘HUMBLE,’ slithered up and stood alongside pride closely followed by, ‘HONESTY.’
Spontaneously, Jane’s measured expression softened. She paused to consider the breathtakingly beautiful coastline - and knew,
‘GOD HATES PRIDE!’
Jane became acutely aware of her self-centred ugliness marring God’s marvellous creation. She glanced heavenwards and whispered,
“Thank you!” She knew what she must do.
At the next church ‘Ladies Group,’ Jane stood up straight, shoulders back and announced,
“Tonight ladies, I’m going to speak on a topic that is very close to my heart. It’s called,
‘SEARCH ENGINE.’
Forget Google, Bing or Yahoo. This Search Engine is far more sensitive and reliable. This engine searches the heart and knows your thoughts before you speak them. It will correct and guide you always. Its source is powerful.
HE IS,
THE SPIRIT OF THE LIVING GOD!
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Topic:4 I think you did a great job of keeping to the topic
Creativity: 4 I liked how she was searching the past to find out who she was.
Start: 3.5 The fact that she had a secret drew me in.
End: 3 It felt a little rushed and tied up in a neat bow.
Crafted: 2.8 There were many sentences I had to reread to understand. There were also several things I didn't understand like why her son called her Duchess or why it mattered what her ancestors did or what an Irish Tinker is or what the initials WI stand for.
Flow 2.9 I think your story was larger than your word limit.
Communication: 4 The message about not worrying what others think is a good one and one I often need to be reminded of.
Publishable: 3 I think this has a lot of potential but I see it more as a novel than a shot story.
Search me, O God, and know my heart; Try me and know my anxious thoughts; And see if there be any hurtful way in me, And lead me in the everlasting way (Psalm 139:23-24 NAS).