Sunday, February 22, 2015

“Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, whom he has redeemed from trouble” – Psalm 107:2

“Forgive me father for I have sinned.”

“This is a bar sweetheart, not a church.”

“What’s really the difference? Both allow people to intoxicate themselves with the idea that they can be forgiven of any transgression without the need of redemption.”

“Alright I think you’ve had enough.”

“RICK I SWEAR TO…” The salty taste soaked into my tongue before I registered the unholy water flowing from my eyes

“Hey man, okay, calm down no need to tear up”

Really? You’re crying? Dude that’s like, the third time today.

SHUT UP CLIVE. IT’S BEEN A ROUGH DAY.

Sorry sweetums, you wanna talk about it?

Blue. Why blue? It could’ve been yellow.  Or Magenta. Or Smaragdine. But no, it had to be blue. I hate blue.

I understand that. All those years ago blue was the color the my wife wore, the color of my little daughters eyes, the color of that goddamned Subaru that ended their lives and changed mine forever.

Blue. The color of the sky. Of heaven. The color of God. I thought I was done with that fucking color when I became his adversary. When I ceased to be his favorite. Apparently not. Yahweh, the almighty asshole.

_____________________

Whenever people think of hell they picture Adolf Hitler or Joseph Stalin as receiving the worst types of punishment God has to offer. That’s not true; the lowest layer of hell is reserved for one man. Levi Hutchins, the inventor of the alarm clock.

Rolling over to turn off the infernal and saw the time 6:66am. Yeah yeah, I know that’s 7:06 and it’s a bit cliché but what’s the point of having your own number if you can’t have a little fun with it?

Stepping outside I could tell it was gonna be a good day.

The blue flashes of police sirens drove past. All four this slum has. This oughta be interesting.

Using my Nancy Drew-like skills I managed to tail the 12 down to the asylum on Herbert Johnson Rd. and there I saw his body.

I had never met this man before. Never seen him before. That’s impossible. I saw all sin. Everything. But this man… He was new to me. Even without the blue paint… His soul was new to me. It was clean. Free from sin. I began to cry. For the first time in 6000 years I cried.

For an hour I laid there, weeping for the first and only man I had ever seen that didn’t deserve to die, dead.

When I awoke on the ground, my face still wet with salt water, the scene was clear. They took this man away without even knowing who it was they were truly carrying, an angel. I stood up. Something caught my eye. On the other side of the asylum some man had spray painted a single word across the wall.

REDEMPTION

Fuck. Not again. Tears began to roll trickle down my face.

“GO AWAY!!!” He began to beat against the word, trying to erase it while the paint still dried. He tried to destroy the evidence of his weakness, his deepest desire, before it became permanent.

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UUUUP!!!”

At this point he couldn’t see anything between the tears and paint that he began smearing all of his face and hands.

“SHUT UP CLIVE! JUST SHUT UP!”

“Clive?”

I looked up to see the woman who lives down the hall, Alice Franklin.

Clive are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. It’s just the suicide and everything. I just freaked out a little bit.”

“Okay. Do you need any help getting home?”

“I’M FINE”

“I was just ask…”

“I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP. I DON’T NEED ANYBODY’S HELP.”

To prove myself, I stood up and walked away, leaving the woman standing there stunned.

I stumbled through the streets until I finally found myself behind O’Harley’s. After taking a breath the events of today began to rush into my head. In an effort to keep myself from crying again, I began to laugh. Hysterically laugh. I laughed until a little girl strolled up to me.

DID YOU DO THIS???” Alright fuck this. I’m getting real tired of the crazy-ass women blaming me for things I didn’t do. “Do you think this is funny, people dying, other’s pain?”

Funny? Do I think it’s funny? Does this girl think I asked for this? Any of this? Does she think I want to do God’s dirty work? I want nothing more than to… No. She can’t know anything about that. How could she? She’s probably just as scared and confused as I am.

“I’m sorry”

I need a drink. I got up and walked into the bar.


Forgive me father for I have sinned.”

10 comments:

  1. We both know that no such thing exists. Even amongst the divine, there is a plan.

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  2. This angel was nothing more than a mere pawn in the game. Just like you. Just like these humans.

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  3. CANT YOU GIVE IT A REST? IM OBVIOUSLY HAVING A ROUGH DAY

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  4. Character development
conflict present?
motivations?
connections to larger blog (events characters, motifs, settings)?
larger narrative that is forming in the blog?
    Clive, your character development, while somewhat all over the place, is really awesome. There are gaps in knowledge about Clive that make it perfect. He's ambiguous enough that people still find him super interesting, however, they are told enough to stay informed about his character. While I am not sure that you wanted his internal voice to be the devil from the beginning, I really love that and I thought it was clever.
    As far as conflicts go, Clive's largest conflict lies within himself. He is unsure of his future and direction, and is battling the physical and literal devil/demons inside of him. I am interested to see where you take this blog!
    I enjoy your connections to a larger blog, as in how you interacted with Catherine. I am not sure that's what you planned all along as usual, but you are really good at adapting and evolving your blog. I hope you and catherine have future interactions and motivations in the blog.
    Your development of the motif, blue, was very good. I particularly enjoyed how you said that blue is the color of God. You also related it to your past, which was nice for the reader. I myself didn't even define what blue meant to me; I don't think it meant anything at all but it scared my character. And a blue subaru killed your family.... Interesting since a blue subaru was following everyone around! Maybe you can make something out of that!
    -Yours truly,
    LANE MASTERSON

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  5. Oh yeah... your motivation lies in your own mind. I see you as someone lost in his head, struggling to battle his inner demons. You are so broken by the events of your life that now, sometimes you feel nothing at all and sometimes entirely too much. Emotion seems to be out of your control good sir.

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  6. Last two things:
    -It was in that moment that I figured out what was so unnerving about my devastatingly inhuman dream. It wasn’t that it made me feel scared or concerned. It was that it didn’t.
    That was my favorite sentence from you, ever. I read your blog frequently.
    I also really enjoy the simplicity of "This is a bar, sweetheart, not a church."
    -As far as a suggestion goes: Elaborate on how he got possessed! Tell some crazy ass story of how that occurred, and how you plan to act on it in the future. Is there any part of Clive that is still fighting lucifer inside of him or is he completely aligned with his goals?
    -Also more on your motivation: I also think you are motivated to be joined with devil because you hate god for ruining your life. You blamed him for the unfortunate events that occurred, so satan possessed you and it was alright. You want to make war with God, an entity you seemingly love and hate at the same time.

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  7. Tag. You are it. You should have some fun with this Clive.

    ReplyDelete