SUE WESTCOTT
  • Home
  • About
  • WRITING
  • CHILDREN
    • IDEAS
    • POETRY & PROSE
  • ADULTS
    • EXERCISES
    • PROSE
    • POETRY
  • Blog

AN #,EASTER STORY.

30/3/2018

0 Comments

 
Picture
I wrote this piece quite a few years ago as a response to an exercise given at my writing workshop. I had to choose two unseen sentences from a pile. The one in the left hand was the opening sentence and the one in my right hand was the conclusion. It was at Easter time and this was the result.
A quirky take on a famous event!

Desperation!
Two men, who were in the pub at the time, tried to lift him up but he was quite helpless. I sat and watched him. He was obviously in deep despair. Mutterings and mumblings spewed intermittently from his mouth. Great gulps of anguish hovered around him. I was repulsed yet fascinated by his distress. He proceeded to drink himself into oblivion. He did not succeed.

Eventually, recognition dawned on him and realisation passed over his features straightening out his creased face. Resolutely, he rose and walked stumblingly erect from the room. I followed him unobserved. He seemed to know where he was going. He made his way through the crowded streets where the macabre celebrations were still continuing. He weaved his way expertly to the council chamber. He lifted his fist and pounded on the door, shouting for them to let him in. Lights appeared. I heard the sound of bolts being drawn back and the door opened.

The two leaders; all- powerful, dressed in black with evil satisfied smiles stood there facing him down. He argued with them gesticulating wildly. I could not hear the conversation but it was a heated exchange of words.

​ Finally, I saw him take out a bag and throw it to the ground. In the darkness pure silver twinkled. He turned and ran away as if devils were chasing him and at that moment I knew that this was in fact the case. I ran too. I was determined to find him and offer help if need be. For now, I knew who he was!


I could hear his footsteps so I followed; this time trying to keep in touch. But as I left the busy, noisy streets and turned into a peaceful garden area of the town, I knew that I was too late!

In the misty distance, I could see his body outlined in the pale glow of the moonlight. He had taken his belt and hanged himself in contrition for his terrible deed.

I bent my head praying, hoping that he would finally be forgiven for his wrong doings. I commended his soul to heaven, remembering that Jesus told us to trust in the Lord our God.
 



0 Comments



Leave a Reply.

    Susie Q's Inside View

    Author

     This blog contains my random thoughts on a variety of subjects. I hope you like them..

    Archives

    February 2021
    January 2021
    May 2020
    April 2020
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

 Proudly powered by Weebly
  • Home
  • About
  • WRITING
  • CHILDREN
    • IDEAS
    • POETRY & PROSE
  • ADULTS
    • EXERCISES
    • PROSE
    • POETRY
  • Blog