Monday, October 31, 2016

A Fate Worse Than Death

Here is a short story I wanted to write for all of you to celebrate Halloween:

Leaves crunched and swirled around Harold's feet as he walked along the darkened road. The bitter air nipped at his ears and nose, harshly reminding his body that winter was approaching. He grumbled and pulled his jacket tighter, already regretting the dare he had accepted from his best friend, Thomas. If it hadn't been for Shannon's presence at the time of the dare (and what a sweet girl she was, too) he never would have agreed to stay out on the streets all night on Halloween. It was already past midnight, and the trick-or-treaters had long since turned in for the night, along with everyone else. He hated to admit it, but he was scared. The mind plays some interesting tricks on a lone soul wandering at twilight, with nothing but his own thoughts as solace. Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted as he saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look back down the street, but saw nothing. Shaking his head, he tried to dispel his encroaching fear, but terror gripped at his heart like Attila the Hun showing off his strength by crushing an apple in his mighty fist. Again, the flickering nagged at his vision, and he turned once more, now stopping dead in his tracks. Something told him that it was not his sleepy mind playing tricks on him this time.
Harold paused, straining at his senses for any hint of movement or sound. A faint odor creeped into his nostrils,smelling like rotting carcass intermingled with remnants of the time he threw up at a birthday party after eating too much garlic bread. Not waiting for another warning, Harold turned and sprinted down a nearby alley. His mind was a frenzy, not thinking of anything except escape, the mind of the hunted during the chase. He rounded a corner and stopped, fear flooding his veins. He couldn't believe it. It was a dead end, no way out, just solid building walls on each side. No way out but back the way he had come, but now he could hear a thumping, lumbering sound coming that way, accompanied with the sound of labored breathing. He desperately wanted to disappear, to fly away, anything at all! Yet he could do nothing. His every nerve screaming at him, he timidly peeked around the corner, terrified of what he might see. The scream choked in his throat. Before his eyes was a monstrous behemoth, a horrid silhouette worthy of an Edgar Allen Poe nightmare. As Harold tried to make out the details, he almost had a heart attack out of sheer surprise. He was both dumbfounded and horrified, but he could not deny the reality. Like Paul before King Agrippa, he could not deny the reality of what he was seeing: A huge, bloated orangutan wearing what looked like a bloody and soiled miniskirt, wielding a wicked looking machete was lumbering toward him. 
At that moment, the thing's mouth opened, and spoke in an unearthly voice that made every inch of Harold's body shudder: "Come and do my laundry for time and all eternity or I shall destroy you in the flesh."
"Who are you?" Harold squeaked back, sounding much like a mouse being sat on by a walrus.
"I am Lamech, the one spoken of in times of old," said the horrid creature. "I have been cursed, as Cain, to wander the earth as a fugitive forever and ever, and to destroy the souls of men. I also need someone to do my massive amounts of laundry, so you are the lucky one."
Thus ended the story of poor Harold.
Genesis 4:23-24

So, Happy Halloween! That's right, I had nothing better to write, so I bored you all to death with a completely unrelated story that I dreamt up this morning. Today we are not going to be doing any work, because it is P-day and Halloween. We will meet as a zone tonight and watch "The Best Two Years", which I am excited for (Thanks to special permission from President Blatter).
Concerning investigators, we have none, not really. I mentioned a family of 6 last week, but they decided to go to another church. Sometimes it is interesting because our prayers are answered so that we know that God is aware of us, but then we are also reminded that people still have their agency. Baptisms will come in this area, but it will take time. We spend most of our day knocking doors. We also spend much time street contacting, and when it gets dark at night we inspire members. That is mostly what we do. So yeah. I don't have anything else to say, except that I encourage you all to remember that Christ wants to heal you and help you with things that you struggle with. He died so that you could be healed, and so of course he wants to help you. Whatever you struggle with, he is aware.
 13 Behold, they will crucify him; and after he is laid in sepulchre for the space of three days he shall rise from the dead, with healing in his wings; and all those who shall believe on his name shall be saved in the kingdom of God.Wherefore, my soul delighteth to prophesy concerning him, for have seen his day, and my heart doth magnify his holy name.
Elder Benge

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