"Would you pass the dip Son?"
"I'm I expected to call you Dad after you kicked me out of the house?" Lucifer scoffed, sliding the dip across the felt table.
"Lucifer, you're always blaming others." Grabbing a potato chip and dipping it, the older Being popped it into His mouth and sighed. "This is delicious- would you like some Son?"
"No thanks, Dad. Now are you done pissing around? I'd like to finish my hand this decade while my bankroll is still good. The action is on you."
"You were never the patient one, very well." He wiped His salty fingers on His 'Yeh Know Yer A Redneck When' pajama pants. "I'll see your ACLU with BYU and raise you my finest radio show host." God flipped two chips into the overgrown pile.
"You just want Doctor Phil out of my pocket."
"Maybe…"
"Rush Limbaugh? You're tempting me on purpose. Who would ever know you had it in you?" The devil slipped the poker chip of the pompous TV show host face up on top of the stack. "Accept for me, of course. I raise you Brittany Spears."
The Almighty glanced down at his cards, "I'll risk Snoop Dog for Brittany. That girl needs a miracle." He nodded to himself, "The Kindergarten teachers of Maryland."
"The subs of Brooklyn," Lucifer tugged on his green visor.
"Mother Teresa."
"2Pac."
"Hilary Clinton."
"Bill Clinton."
"Leev Maxim."
"Barack O- Wait," the devil reframed from throwing another chip into the middle, "who is Maxim?"
"A war like the one between Russia and Georgia can't stop on its own." God smiled proudly, "He was created for that very propose."
Lucifer's mischievous grin widened, "You'd jeopardize him?"
"Who says he is in jeopardy?" He gave an All-Knowing smile when His rolled his eyes. "Besides- I want jurisdiction over that serial killer of yours."
"Hold on, I'm not laying her down-"
"Don't you try to cheat me now, Lucifer," He chided, "Any one less would be insulting to my bet."
"Fine," the devil bristled, tossing a chip to the middle of the table, "Alexis B. Johnson it is. I raise you the KKK."
"I meet your raise with the Red Cross- Oh!" God glanced at the figure floating towards their table in No-Man's-Land, "Why Isabella, right on time, as usual."
The pretty angel blushed and gave a little, "Yes, My Lord."
"Good thing too, I want a drink." The Father glanced back at His son, "What would you like?"
"Give me a beer." He ordered the angel.
"Now Lucifer, there is no need to be rude. Would you give him his," God scrunched up His nose, "beer? And I think I'll have a Red Bull."
Isabella looked confused, "Why an energy drink, My Lord?"
Lucifer rolled his eyes, "Duh, Red Bull gives you wings," he said sarcastically.
"Son, would you stop?" He looked to the girl who seemed even more confused, "Just fix those drinks for us, my child." Once she was digging into the never ending cooler, He peered back at His cards. "Now where were we? Oh yes- I raise you Valentine's Day!"
"I'll chance Christmas."
"Christmas?" Isabella butted in, as she set the drinks on the poker table, "but that one is The Son's day!"
"God, your new help is seriously lacking. Did you forget to add common sense to this one? Why didn't I just bring Marlin Monroe? She never gives me a headache." He turned to Isabella, "Christmas has always been mine. My dear older brother wasn't even born on the damned day."
"Thank you, Isabella, "God hastily interrupted, "I'll send for you if you are needed." As soon as she disappeared, He glared at His son who was casually leaning back in his chair. "I should have given you more manners."
A cheeky grin graced the devil's face,
"All your first-class traits had to go some where. It's a shame my bro was left with useless things like manners."
"You are not funny."
"You're right, I'm serious. Now let us finish this. I bet the Pope and call."
"Lucifer, Lucifer," God shock His head in mock sadness, pulling out a chip with the Pope's face on it. "You are hallucinating, the Pope is mine."
Lucifer frowned and pulled out an identical chip and raised an eyebrow,
"I think we might have a problem."
MW
Friday, July 3, 2009
Somewhere Safe
The moon light that bled down the stairway from the windows above was broken up by a figure's sudden appearance. His ominous frame threw protective darkness over the place I was hidden, for which I was momentarily grateful. Holding my breath in dread, I helplessly watched the shadow diminish while he crept slowly downward.
There was no doubt in my mind his eyes had adjusted to the poor lighting with the sureness in each of his steps. My breath caught when his gaze flickered over me. In that split second, the urge to make a run for the gap under the stairs was nerve-racking, though I knew I didn't have a choice but to remain still. My survival, their survival, rested on our ability to remain unseen. With as little noise as possible, I dipped my head back into my position behind the sofa, peeking over it's arm.
"I know you're here kiddies. Come out. Come out where ever you are and play," His rasping voice sounded, both feet resting firmly on the ground. "You're the last you should know. It'll all be over once I find you…" His voice faded.
A whimper was amplified in the silence of the basement. My body tensed instantly at the offending noise echoing off the walls of my mind. The figure hesitated, and I gazed on horrified as he glanced back toward the stairs- the stairs where the kids were hidden. I wanted to scream, scream at them to run, to save themselves. Biting my lip to keep quite, my mind was working overtime. How was I going to get us all out of this situation?
Panicking, I grabbed the only thing in my reach, one of my shoes. I untied my filthy laces in a rush. Slipping off the shoe, I flung it down the far hall then quickly ducked back down. The shoe came in contact with a bedroom door. The figure, who was so close to discovering us, took off after the crash and I sighed in relief.
With the little time I had, I pulled myself up and over the sofa, slinked to the stairs and squeezed inside the gap next to my niece and nephew.
"Are you two ok?" I asked the shaking toddlers.
"We d-d-don't l-l-like this game a-a-anymore." Madison spoke for her and her little brother.
"He got mommy."
Taking the crying Kelby's hand in my hand, I looked at Madison, "It's almost over, I promise. All we have to do is make it outside to our safety place. Do you remember where that is?"
"The tree house," whispered Madison.
"Right, once we're there, we'll be safe. Madison," I said quietly to the four year old, "when I wave, come out with Kelby. We have to make it up the stairs before he comes back. Got it? Good." Wishing I didn't have too, I let the little hand slip from mine.
Before stepping out, I peeked around the railing to make sure it was safe for the kids. Creasing my brow, I inspected the family room. Shinning undisturbed, the moon left nothing protected by its light. It was then I realized, to my dismay, what had kept me cloaked from him, would now be a problem for us.
"Kids," I signaled for them to come out, "Let's go, and try not to make a sound." Pushing them ahead of me, we began climbing the flight of steps. Never before had those stairs been so intimidating to me.
Half way up is when I lost my traction on my sock clad foot. The booming sound seemed to me two storms clashing, pulsating off mountains, with how loud it was. Madison and Kelby looked down at me from a few steps above. Mouthing to them to wait I ignored the pain in my backside and I held still, listening.
There was the sound I was waiting for, of feet moving quickly from the hall below me. I swore and quickly picked up speed, taking the steps two at a time.
"Go kids, I'm right behind you!" I yelled. Not waiting to be told again like they usually did, they took off at the top of the stairs.
"No you won't," I heard the panting voice behind me still on the stairs, "I'm not letting you get free!"
The lump in my throat had to have been my heart at that moment, as I rounded the corner the kids had taken. Down the entry hall I ran, feeling my pursuer's fingers grasping at the fabric of my shirt. Throwing the door wide open, I could see the towering tree house and its occupants. Good, I thought, the kids weren't the only ones who made it.
Barely was I past the door when a rough hand seized me from behind. Shrieking in fright, I used my foot still with a shoe to stomp down hard and tore free as he gasped at his throbbing toe. Pushing myself to the limit I covered the ground to the tree like a rabbit being chased by a fox. Pulling myself up the latter hastily, I stood up in the heaving platform.
Glancing around, I saw in satisfaction the rest of my family up in that tree with silly grins on their faces. Down on the ground I could see the glare on my older brother's face, which made a smirk appear on my own. I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled at the top of my lungs,
"Free, Free, Free!"
MW
There was no doubt in my mind his eyes had adjusted to the poor lighting with the sureness in each of his steps. My breath caught when his gaze flickered over me. In that split second, the urge to make a run for the gap under the stairs was nerve-racking, though I knew I didn't have a choice but to remain still. My survival, their survival, rested on our ability to remain unseen. With as little noise as possible, I dipped my head back into my position behind the sofa, peeking over it's arm.
"I know you're here kiddies. Come out. Come out where ever you are and play," His rasping voice sounded, both feet resting firmly on the ground. "You're the last you should know. It'll all be over once I find you…" His voice faded.
A whimper was amplified in the silence of the basement. My body tensed instantly at the offending noise echoing off the walls of my mind. The figure hesitated, and I gazed on horrified as he glanced back toward the stairs- the stairs where the kids were hidden. I wanted to scream, scream at them to run, to save themselves. Biting my lip to keep quite, my mind was working overtime. How was I going to get us all out of this situation?
Panicking, I grabbed the only thing in my reach, one of my shoes. I untied my filthy laces in a rush. Slipping off the shoe, I flung it down the far hall then quickly ducked back down. The shoe came in contact with a bedroom door. The figure, who was so close to discovering us, took off after the crash and I sighed in relief.
With the little time I had, I pulled myself up and over the sofa, slinked to the stairs and squeezed inside the gap next to my niece and nephew.
"Are you two ok?" I asked the shaking toddlers.
"We d-d-don't l-l-like this game a-a-anymore." Madison spoke for her and her little brother.
"He got mommy."
Taking the crying Kelby's hand in my hand, I looked at Madison, "It's almost over, I promise. All we have to do is make it outside to our safety place. Do you remember where that is?"
"The tree house," whispered Madison.
"Right, once we're there, we'll be safe. Madison," I said quietly to the four year old, "when I wave, come out with Kelby. We have to make it up the stairs before he comes back. Got it? Good." Wishing I didn't have too, I let the little hand slip from mine.
Before stepping out, I peeked around the railing to make sure it was safe for the kids. Creasing my brow, I inspected the family room. Shinning undisturbed, the moon left nothing protected by its light. It was then I realized, to my dismay, what had kept me cloaked from him, would now be a problem for us.
"Kids," I signaled for them to come out, "Let's go, and try not to make a sound." Pushing them ahead of me, we began climbing the flight of steps. Never before had those stairs been so intimidating to me.
Half way up is when I lost my traction on my sock clad foot. The booming sound seemed to me two storms clashing, pulsating off mountains, with how loud it was. Madison and Kelby looked down at me from a few steps above. Mouthing to them to wait I ignored the pain in my backside and I held still, listening.
There was the sound I was waiting for, of feet moving quickly from the hall below me. I swore and quickly picked up speed, taking the steps two at a time.
"Go kids, I'm right behind you!" I yelled. Not waiting to be told again like they usually did, they took off at the top of the stairs.
"No you won't," I heard the panting voice behind me still on the stairs, "I'm not letting you get free!"
The lump in my throat had to have been my heart at that moment, as I rounded the corner the kids had taken. Down the entry hall I ran, feeling my pursuer's fingers grasping at the fabric of my shirt. Throwing the door wide open, I could see the towering tree house and its occupants. Good, I thought, the kids weren't the only ones who made it.
Barely was I past the door when a rough hand seized me from behind. Shrieking in fright, I used my foot still with a shoe to stomp down hard and tore free as he gasped at his throbbing toe. Pushing myself to the limit I covered the ground to the tree like a rabbit being chased by a fox. Pulling myself up the latter hastily, I stood up in the heaving platform.
Glancing around, I saw in satisfaction the rest of my family up in that tree with silly grins on their faces. Down on the ground I could see the glare on my older brother's face, which made a smirk appear on my own. I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled at the top of my lungs,
"Free, Free, Free!"
MW
The Rippling Sky: An Aesthetic Experience
The universe moved—or at least that's what I saw. By the time the notion had hit me, the sky had stilled once again. Discarding the thought, I laid back on the hard ground high above the city's fumes. Up that high, where the air was cold and clear, the sky rested untainted. Up that high, the stars floated in an undisturbed peace—
It moved again!
This wasn't right…I held still and unblinking, afraid I was imagining this impossibility. No more then three seconds had gone by when another tremor came passing through the night sky above me.
Did the sky just ripple?
Again I waited to make sure I wasn't inventing this phenomenon, and again the traveling beam passed overhead. It blew across the night like the fall's wind moves through the dying grass, slowly making its way over the valley of stars.
But there is no air in outer space to be moved...
In disbelief of what was happening outside this world, I gazed around looking for the cause of illuminated movement—there, on the other side of the hill. A cheap, dull spot light, most likely advertising a spurious sale, was my foundation of magic.
Satisfied with the solved mystery, I laid back down and aloud myself to be taken over by allusion. I watched in awe as the spot light danced over the stars like a wave coming in with the tide. Again, and again, it washed over me, heading to some far off shore of which I was never to see.
Does time ever stop? Can one moment live on forever? Has the sky ever rippled?
It has for me.
MW
It moved again!
This wasn't right…I held still and unblinking, afraid I was imagining this impossibility. No more then three seconds had gone by when another tremor came passing through the night sky above me.
Did the sky just ripple?
Again I waited to make sure I wasn't inventing this phenomenon, and again the traveling beam passed overhead. It blew across the night like the fall's wind moves through the dying grass, slowly making its way over the valley of stars.
But there is no air in outer space to be moved...
In disbelief of what was happening outside this world, I gazed around looking for the cause of illuminated movement—there, on the other side of the hill. A cheap, dull spot light, most likely advertising a spurious sale, was my foundation of magic.
Satisfied with the solved mystery, I laid back down and aloud myself to be taken over by allusion. I watched in awe as the spot light danced over the stars like a wave coming in with the tide. Again, and again, it washed over me, heading to some far off shore of which I was never to see.
Does time ever stop? Can one moment live on forever? Has the sky ever rippled?
It has for me.
MW
While Out of It's Cage
Creature,
It's tearing me from the,
Inside…
Thrashing and bending,
The bars out'v shape,
Out of Its cage,
It makes Its escape.
Bloodshed,
It's drowning me from the,
Inside…
Ripping and Crushing,
My cover to shards,
Down come my walls,
It replaces my guard.
Riverbed,
It's weeping me from the,
Inside...
Wailing and Howling,
It burns my eyes,
Cracks my voice and,
Lets out Its cry.
Madness,
It's scaring me from the,
Inside...
Raging and shrilling,
It destroys my mind,
Throwing about my fears,
Fears I failed to hide.
Exhausted,
It's tiring me from the,
Inside...
Confusing and Draining,
Making me go weak,
Letting out a grin,
Its job near complete.
Deserted,
It's left me from the,
Inside...
Clam and quiet,
Gone is the storm,
That awful creature-
Picked all my thorns…
Healed,
It restored me from the,
Inside.
MW
It's tearing me from the,
Inside…
Thrashing and bending,
The bars out'v shape,
Out of Its cage,
It makes Its escape.
Bloodshed,
It's drowning me from the,
Inside…
Ripping and Crushing,
My cover to shards,
Down come my walls,
It replaces my guard.
Riverbed,
It's weeping me from the,
Inside...
Wailing and Howling,
It burns my eyes,
Cracks my voice and,
Lets out Its cry.
Madness,
It's scaring me from the,
Inside...
Raging and shrilling,
It destroys my mind,
Throwing about my fears,
Fears I failed to hide.
Exhausted,
It's tiring me from the,
Inside...
Confusing and Draining,
Making me go weak,
Letting out a grin,
Its job near complete.
Deserted,
It's left me from the,
Inside...
Clam and quiet,
Gone is the storm,
That awful creature-
Picked all my thorns…
Healed,
It restored me from the,
Inside.
MW
The Sower of Fiction
If pretending was believing,
Deception could be made honest.
Lies wouldn't eat away at the mind,
Like stomach acid disintegrating its walls---a fate slow for dying.
A whisper of fasilty would have the ability to replace choking sobs,
For a lust of bathing in sweet liquid.
& the sweetness would overpower the bitterness that taints the moment of bliss.
& none would question the word that could bring dreams to waking...
However, poison fates to devour The Wiser, & a curse from God to carry such a burden--
For the forger is not effected by his illusions.
If pretending was believing,
May you never be The Wiser
MW
Deception could be made honest.
Lies wouldn't eat away at the mind,
Like stomach acid disintegrating its walls---a fate slow for dying.
A whisper of fasilty would have the ability to replace choking sobs,
For a lust of bathing in sweet liquid.
& the sweetness would overpower the bitterness that taints the moment of bliss.
& none would question the word that could bring dreams to waking...
However, poison fates to devour The Wiser, & a curse from God to carry such a burden--
For the forger is not effected by his illusions.
If pretending was believing,
May you never be The Wiser
MW
Feelings Encrypted
In my family criticism is considered a show of affection & sarcasm the daily dose of humor. Pain is taken with fictitious smiles. Honesty is only found after you've left the room. This is what my writing is born of; feelings encrypted by warped words. Mind games, double meanings, & hidden agendas--what may be common, I still see as The Maxwell Way.
(Credit also given to my Creative Writing teacher, Mike Eaton, inspired me to really work at it. And Andrew Ames: whose opinion I trust completely.)
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