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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: PICNIC - deadline 7-12-12 @ 9:59 AM NY Time (07/05/12)

TITLE: RSVP
By CD (Camille) Swanson
07/09/12


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RSVP

The emerald green grass was perfectly manicured. The brief rainstorm earlier still hung in the air. The blades glistened in the sun. The fresh scent of grass tickled her nostrils as she took her place at the table. Her white dress was in striking contrast with the deep purple tablecloth. Heather's ringlets of fire touched her waist. She looked around to see if she recognized anyone; the faces were unfamiliar thus far.

The table began filling up slowly with people that were invited. A tall man with white hair in a periwinkle blue suit, sat near a tow-headed boy. Heather observed them both with interest.

The river surrounding the grounds babbled in a melodic fashion.
Heather looked at the elaborate gold plate set in front of her. The ornate red goblet overlaid with gold, was the perfect companion to the cutlery and plates. A gigantic silver platter piled high with fruit was placed in the middle of the long table. Juice, water, and milk were the beverages of choice. Various nuts, barley, and bread were in abundance. Warm honey, and fresh butter, with a variety of jam and jellied tarts sat next to the bread.

Heather saw a friend and waved frantically. Molly came running over and hugged Heather tightly. Her espresso-brown hair secured atop her head complemented her pink dress nicely. She sat down next to Heather. It was one of two seats that were unoccupied. Now… one remained.

"Molly, I'm so glad to see you. How have you been? It's been so long. I haven't seen you in years."

"I've been well. I'm so glad I found someone I knew. I was nervous I wouldn't find one soul that I knew." Heather's smile burst forth lighting up her pretty face.

"Where is everyone else?" Molly's eyebrows raised into arches over her violet colored eyes.

"I don't know." Heather said in a small voice.

Just then a trumpet sounded as everyone stood with bowed heads. And, then a deep voice resonated throughout the field.

"Be seated everyone."

They obeyed, and sat in perfect synchrony. And, the man with the deep voice spoke again.

"My children I'm so glad you are here with Me. You have followed My example, and have preached My gospel. You have lived a life that was pleasing to Me and My Father. And, in so doing, you have been given the gift of eternal life. I have prepared this table for you, as I have said I would. And, lo...My promise is now a reality for all of you. The remnant few. The others shall come later, and some, will not come at all. But, for now, partake of the veritable goods in My Field. You have all done well My children. My Father and I are so proud of each and every one of you.


When Jesus finished speaking, they got on their knees. They all sang a new song, each praising His glory, rejoicing in His Holy presence. Heather smiled at Molly, they were so glad they were invited.

And, afterwards,they shared the endless bounty of food and drink at... His table.


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This article has been read 290 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Shann Hall-LochmannVanBennekom 07/12/12
Wow, the ending really took me by surprise. It wasn't at all what I expected.

When I first started reading the term purple prose came to my mind. You did an outstanding job of describing the little details and that goes a long way in painting a picture for the reader. However, for me personally, I'm not as interested in what color eyes someone has or what the place setting looks like as I am in the actual exchange between people and the conflict in the story.

However, when I realized what you were really describing, I chuckled at the purple part of the purple prose. How perfect is it that the color that stands for royalty fitted the way you described every detail at the Lord's table? -- A bit of tongue in cheek genius is my opinion.

Normally I might encourage you to not use such flowery and exact definitions but stick to things that are vital to the story. However, once I realized that what I was picturing, then the details did seem vital to the story.

I think you did an outstanding job using the imagery to describe the indescribable. I was a tad curious about the empty seat and wanted to know if the person would turn his life around and be able to take his place beside Jesus. For me, that air of mystery made the story even more intriguing.

I think you did nail the topic and did it in a fresh and unique way. When I read the words that Jesus spoke, I felt a slight chill and fancied him saying those words to me some glorious day!
Dannie Hawley 07/13/12
Okay, so the banquet is a picnic! Why not? Sounds like a gorgeous affair with the King of Kings and His father, according to your elegant and fantastic description. I just loved how it all fit together. Beautifully done!
lynn gipson 07/13/12
Oh my goodness, wow. Do I have a looonnng way to go or what? This is about the most beautiful thing I have read on this site so far. Seriouly, breathtaking, and I felt like I was there.

God Bless You! Lynn
Noel Mitaxa 07/15/12
How does anyone describethe indescribable? Exactly as you have done.
I love how you have woven such detail into the story without letting it take over - as it threatened to do at first. To keep reading was a blessing. Well done.
Leola Ogle 07/16/12
One of my favorites! You painted a wonderful picture with words. Well written! Good job! God bless!
Hiram Claudio07/18/12
What a wonderful and so vivid description you painted here! I was so moved by the scenes your words constructed - I could almost hear that melodic stream in my head.

I was also touched by the conversation between Molly and Heather about the "others" they thought they'd see there but didnt as they asked "Where is everyone else?" Even in a setting of such fulfillment and beauty, a reminder of some of the sober realities that exist, even at that everlasting "picnic." You mixed the two in such an amazing way. This was excellent!
Ruth Brown 08/20/12
I really liked your picnic peice! So good to finally read somw of your writing! Very well done! Blessings, Ruth Brown