Friday, January 31, 2014

Random Word Writing Challenge #50

Click on the picture for a better view of the storm...
then write as many paragraphs as you like using the words above.
Entries may be poetry, prose, fiction, essays or interviews.
(or any other form of creatively written expression.)
Just be funny, clever and theological...


  1. The Mystery of the Missing Mirror

    "I do say, Homes, I feel as though this is the most bizarre case we have ever encountered," my esteemed colleague, Tom Watkins, whispers as we move about stealthily in the carnival. "I perceive that no one wants us here - not even the visitors..."

    "The mirror was very well known," I respond, gripping my flashlight (well, one of them) tightly. "And something is very eerie about this place..."

    "I find the legend a little hard to swallow. How would they know if Weslee had owned it?"

    I shrug, momentarily flicking on my light to scan. "They don't pride themselves too much on cleanliness in these tents, do they?" I chuckle, right as the hair on the back of my neck tingles.

    "Something's up, Sherwood, something is up..."

    "I do believe you are cor -"

    "GRAH!" We both pivot simultaneously as a massive cobra enters the structure at break-neck speed, shoulder rolling out of the way as it slams into a massive pile of odds and ends, going for our sidearms instantly.

    BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Our bullets hit their mark, prayers flying faster than bullets as it rushes for Watkins, forcing him to leap into a roll over some boxes, I blasting it with sidearm and illuminating it with my powerful torch.

    "What's going on here?!" a voice yells, supported by several confused ramblings.

    "Stay away, stay away!' I yell, delivering a kick to face as it catches me off guard, I going into a side break fall and sending over a 1,000 lumens right into its eyes.

    Oh, thank God! I sigh inwardly as I see Watkins with his sub-machine gun, I kicking and firing in an attempt to recover my footing.

    "He's not going down!" my friend cries in disbelief.

    That's it! "Watkins, look for the mirror! It's his weakness!"

    "Shut up, shut up!" the snake hisses, spitting poison at me and narrowly missing.

    "I found it!" the good doctor cries. "Take this!"

    Throwing it in front of me, the snake is forced to see himself - and crumbles instantly into light gray stone.

    "Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?" I cough, panting. "Thank God we're both alright! What was that thing? That was no Arminian!"

    "Much worse," Watkins announces as people flood into the tent, a piece of the rock in his hand. "A hyper-Calvinist."

    "What a sad way to go...Thank God for His real amazing grace."

    1. Homes and Watkins have a lot more where this one came from! They lead pretty exciting lives.


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