1001 tales - Two
Another “writing on the fly” piece.
—
Two.
Her shrill voice tore through the heat of the day like a sonic javelin, grabbing the attention of everyone that had the misfortune of being around her. Knowing they were hers for the taking, she paused for effect, and slowly stooped down, picked up her mineral water bottle, and calmly took a sip of water.
She was enjoying this, they could tell. For the type of person she represented, something felt wrong about the way she was drinking up the attention. Her stance, her demeanour, the cold efficiency of her actions… all these things told a completely different story.
One which didn’t fit in with the message she was supposed to be delivering.
Someone to the right shuffled their feet, and she turned, glaring at him with eyes full of unbridled accusation. She lifted her finger and pointed straight at the culprit who had dared interrupt her. He stiffened, knowing what was coming next. With a barely concealed sneer, she screamed words at him that humbled him to his core.
Words that tore at his heart. Words that told him how useless and foolish he was. Words that condemned him to a life of self-reproach and pity. Words that told him, above all things, that he was unworthy.
Her audience hushed, fearing to even breathe or blink. Such was the ferocity of her message, and no one could stand up against it. She represented a higher authority, one which they could not even begin to comprehend. She was a one-eyed goddess in the chaotic sea of the blind.
They were weak, and lost, and they needed her to guide them. And she made this clear to them, every single day. They were lost without her.
She set the mineral water bottle down and turned around suddenly. Something was wrong.
The screech of tyres was the last thing she heard.
A single piece of paper fluttered in the air, and came to rest on her crushed body. It was a page from the Bible she had been holding, which had been flung far away from the street corner where she had been standing.
Someone picked it up, and gasped.
On the page, a spray of blood had splattered across a single verse:
18:20
But the prophet, which shall presume to speak a word in my name, which I have not commanded him to speak, or that shall speak in the name of other gods, even that prophet shall die.
October 24th, 2008 at 1:15 am
Boots!! woohoo!
October 24th, 2008 at 1:24 am
Nice!! Again, brilliant delivery.
But:
In the beginning, you emphasise the bottle of mineral water. Where is this woman standing? On the side of a road? How is she standing? Are her hands flung wide? Her eyes- they must have some evil power surely? I try to picture her and I’m coming up empty. I think a character as powerful as she is, needs a proper setting.
Just my two cents.
October 24th, 2008 at 1:27 am
I think I just displayed some ‘hater’ tendencies…
Woops!
October 24th, 2008 at 1:32 am
lol, princess, the beginning is left intentionally ambiguous. It might make sense when we get to “five” or “two hundred”. I dunno. I’m winging all this. The last piece might attempt to tie all this together. Or not.
I’m intentionally not thinking ahead.
October 24th, 2008 at 7:35 am
eh emry’s… this was soooooo beautifully written, i am inspired!
October 24th, 2008 at 7:37 am
okay i was abit mixed too and for a moment i thought you were talking about…. lol, Lord have mercy but i like the way that scripture ties in with the story…eh! two thumbs up!
October 24th, 2008 at 9:49 am
This was so sudden. Harsh almost.
Don’t explain it, DK. The impact is in the individual interpretation and I love that I have to make my own conclusions.
October 24th, 2008 at 9:53 am
I wish this would happen in real life - all around Kampala, Namulanda, Makerere and elsewhere.
I get so sick of these people, but just have to trust that God will deal with them in His perfect time.
October 24th, 2008 at 1:08 pm
@lulu. lol, swee’heart, there are two Weak Dudes on the blog. This was written by DK. But, still, thank you
@tumwijuke… interesting. Maybe I’ll just leave cliffhangers all over the place.
@petesmama, lol, that’s harsh!
October 25th, 2008 at 6:41 pm
enjoying the fly by wire stories…keep them coming.
October 26th, 2008 at 2:41 am
D.K beautiful writing. I’ve been trying to understand the significance of the mineral water bottle but there seams none except to quench and refresh her self..
This story reminds me of a boondocks episode The Passion of Reverend Ruckus Towards the end, Ruckus bellows, “If any of my words don’t come directly from the almighty God himself, then may I be struck by lightning right this very instant! Hallel-” and from on-high, the lightning does strike Ruckus.
October 26th, 2008 at 9:14 am
she died? i’m ecstatic dude. super again
October 26th, 2008 at 8:21 pm
wow…wow, nothin more can be said
October 26th, 2008 at 9:50 pm
That is deep…i’m still reeling from my own interpretation
keep ‘em coming
December 4th, 2008 at 4:30 pm
then he killed her again….