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Only for Him (The Cold Morning)
Cold mornings are the worst.
I think about blasphemies as I stare across the water. The procession has begun, a line of black on what I presume is the opposite shore. The water's got that funny rippling effect going on. You know the one, where it makes it look like the horizon and the sky are the same? Makes the paraders look like ghosts walking on water. Each one of them an unwitting Jesus. But they aren't here to cast demons out of swine, oh, no. Doing God's work, no doubt. Even if that work means setting God to his rest.
No place for people like me in that group. Steam rises out of my mouth into the cold air. Satan's breath. Still stuck in the ice.
That's the thing about the devil. Nobody sees him when he's right there. A few hundred yards away, but to them I'm a phantom in mind and in thought. Well, that might be unfair. I'm sure someone's thinking of me. In the way people think about the devil, that is. "He's far away, hiding in the shadows, counting his money or finding fresh souls to reap. Always the next innocent to corrupt, right?"
I doubt a single one of them ever read Milton.
It is said, among those who have, that the single worst thing in existence is to no longer know God. From that perspective, Satan is a tragic figure. Did you know he once loved God as much as the next angel? Oh, yes, he was an angel. Once. Then he made a mistake. He got cast out. He has to live every waking moment knowing that God doesn't exist in his heart. That, my friend, is the real agony of being the devil. Everything he does, every sin he commits, is just one more distraction from the agony that is a world without God. In a way, the pain of that loss drives his every deed.
And here I stand, a ghost or a demon, on what may as well be the other side of the world. As far as those Jesuses across the water are concerned, I'm still in Hell. They have no idea.
Hell isn't a place of fire and brimstone. Hell is on the shore of a lake, watching the apostles walk by in their lofty arrogance. Watching and remembering a time when God smiled upon me, loved me like a son, and cared for my endeavors. He did not condemn me for having a dream that didn't sit well with my peers. He only ever tried to guide me down the safest path. I loved Him for that, even when He cast me from Heaven. I never blamed Him for it. It was those water-walking apparitions over there, the ones who pressured Him. I swear, they are far more devilish than I'll ever be.
You can't tell them that. They're perfect. Perfect, with their Bibles and their Services and their Thou-Shalt-Nots. One does not dare to question their morality.
So here I stand. Here I watch. If I strain my pointed ears just right, I might even hear their words. I will not intrude on their moment. I'm a devil, but I'm not a jerk. When they've finished their lamentations and stories and praises for events long past, they will leave. Then I will pay God a visit. I pray He will remember me fondly.
Cold mornings are the worst. But for Him?
Only for Him.
I think about blasphemies as I stare across the water. The procession has begun, a line of black on what I presume is the opposite shore. The water's got that funny rippling effect going on. You know the one, where it makes it look like the horizon and the sky are the same? Makes the paraders look like ghosts walking on water. Each one of them an unwitting Jesus. But they aren't here to cast demons out of swine, oh, no. Doing God's work, no doubt. Even if that work means setting God to his rest.
No place for people like me in that group. Steam rises out of my mouth into the cold air. Satan's breath. Still stuck in the ice.
That's the thing about the devil. Nobody sees him when he's right there. A few hundred yards away, but to them I'm a phantom in mind and in thought. Well, that might be unfair. I'm sure someone's thinking of me. In the way people think about the devil, that is. "He's far away, hiding in the shadows, counting his money or finding fresh souls to reap. Always the next innocent to corrupt, right?"
I doubt a single one of them ever read Milton.
It is said, among those who have, that the single worst thing in existence is to no longer know God. From that perspective, Satan is a tragic figure. Did you know he once loved God as much as the next angel? Oh, yes, he was an angel. Once. Then he made a mistake. He got cast out. He has to live every waking moment knowing that God doesn't exist in his heart. That, my friend, is the real agony of being the devil. Everything he does, every sin he commits, is just one more distraction from the agony that is a world without God. In a way, the pain of that loss drives his every deed.
And here I stand, a ghost or a demon, on what may as well be the other side of the world. As far as those Jesuses across the water are concerned, I'm still in Hell. They have no idea.
Hell isn't a place of fire and brimstone. Hell is on the shore of a lake, watching the apostles walk by in their lofty arrogance. Watching and remembering a time when God smiled upon me, loved me like a son, and cared for my endeavors. He did not condemn me for having a dream that didn't sit well with my peers. He only ever tried to guide me down the safest path. I loved Him for that, even when He cast me from Heaven. I never blamed Him for it. It was those water-walking apparitions over there, the ones who pressured Him. I swear, they are far more devilish than I'll ever be.
You can't tell them that. They're perfect. Perfect, with their Bibles and their Services and their Thou-Shalt-Nots. One does not dare to question their morality.
So here I stand. Here I watch. If I strain my pointed ears just right, I might even hear their words. I will not intrude on their moment. I'm a devil, but I'm not a jerk. When they've finished their lamentations and stories and praises for events long past, they will leave. Then I will pay God a visit. I pray He will remember me fondly.
Cold mornings are the worst. But for Him?
Only for Him.
This is very well crafted. Wordsmithed, even. But I don't understand what it's saying. I don't get how much is metaphorical versus literal. I still haven't figured out who is being buried, or whether the funeral itself is literal.
Good Stuff: Lucifer as a tragic figure is rarer than it should be, so it was reassuring to see you take the idea and make good on it. The emotion felt legit, with his mourning for the loss, and I like the twist that banished Lucifer lost contact not because of God but because of holier-than-thou types discouraging their relationship. The imagery of the demon watching the procession (morning prayers or something?) on a cold morning is haunting and beautiful. It's short and sweet and unlike some entries it doesn't wear out its welcome. The language and voicing were engaging throughout, which is what you want when you're making us feel sorry for the Devil.
Bad Stuff: Who's "they"? Priests? Angels? I could never tell, which robs this of some of its emotional strength. Also, this does have some clever twists, but for the most part it's just Lucifer pining. I got the emotion, but I think I'd need examples of why he loves God so much to really sell it. Religious context or not, this is a story, and I think it needs to be able to stand strongly on its own to get the full impact.
Verdict: Solid Entry. It doesn't go as far as I think it should, weakening the emotion a bit. But what's there is really, really good and this has clearly had some thought put into it. You also need to clarify who "they" are, or else we get that nagging feeling that something important is missing, and that can only weaken the impact further.
OK, I'll come back to do the rest later.
Bad Stuff: Who's "they"? Priests? Angels? I could never tell, which robs this of some of its emotional strength. Also, this does have some clever twists, but for the most part it's just Lucifer pining. I got the emotion, but I think I'd need examples of why he loves God so much to really sell it. Religious context or not, this is a story, and I think it needs to be able to stand strongly on its own to get the full impact.
Verdict: Solid Entry. It doesn't go as far as I think it should, weakening the emotion a bit. But what's there is really, really good and this has clearly had some thought put into it. You also need to clarify who "they" are, or else we get that nagging feeling that something important is missing, and that can only weaken the impact further.
OK, I'll come back to do the rest later.
This is a nice story. I must own up to being somewhat biased, because I’ve always loved stories where the devil was depicted in a somewhat unfamiliar way. This story has many of these traits, although the space it is confined in doesn’t allow for much development, so the overall impression is of a good idea, but a shallow treatment.
So, basically, what you say is that the Devil is a lost child, whose father has abandoned him, and who therefore grew up to be a hellion, so to speak. At the same time, you ascribe the very sin which is canonically attached to the Devil, namely pride, to the apostles, so you reverse the charges. This is interesting. I’m not sure if lying in the background is the picture of a God incarnating perfect law and order, but also perfect boringness and stillness, against a Devil who is chaos and evil, but also creation and change.
At the end of the day, your Devil is a bit remote from Milton’s one. He doesn’t seem to be content to rule in hell, but rather craving after serving again in Heaven.
So, basically, what you say is that the Devil is a lost child, whose father has abandoned him, and who therefore grew up to be a hellion, so to speak. At the same time, you ascribe the very sin which is canonically attached to the Devil, namely pride, to the apostles, so you reverse the charges. This is interesting. I’m not sure if lying in the background is the picture of a God incarnating perfect law and order, but also perfect boringness and stillness, against a Devil who is chaos and evil, but also creation and change.
At the end of the day, your Devil is a bit remote from Milton’s one. He doesn’t seem to be content to rule in hell, but rather craving after serving again in Heaven.
>>Hap
>>HiTime
>>Monokeras
It amuses me that someone saw this as "wordsmithed" considering I slapped it together in about 30 minutes.
Many thanks for the comments! It was interesting getting the different interpretations, but it appears my vagueness has foiled me again. The concept for this story was of a man witnessing the funeral of his father from a distance (specifically across a lake), unable to attend for being blacklisted by the rest of his family. I don't know when it became a devil analogy, but the moment that started I ran with it. I did have a few spots that specifically identified the man being buried as the narrator's father, but cut them out at the last minute thinking they were too direct. Silly me.
But really, for this contest my entire process was: See prompt > get concept > write stream of thoughts > minor cleanup > submit. If I had taken the time to stop and review the story again an hour or two later this might have been better, but I think it went well all things considered.
>>HiTime
>>Monokeras
It amuses me that someone saw this as "wordsmithed" considering I slapped it together in about 30 minutes.
Many thanks for the comments! It was interesting getting the different interpretations, but it appears my vagueness has foiled me again. The concept for this story was of a man witnessing the funeral of his father from a distance (specifically across a lake), unable to attend for being blacklisted by the rest of his family. I don't know when it became a devil analogy, but the moment that started I ran with it. I did have a few spots that specifically identified the man being buried as the narrator's father, but cut them out at the last minute thinking they were too direct. Silly me.
But really, for this contest my entire process was: See prompt > get concept > write stream of thoughts > minor cleanup > submit. If I had taken the time to stop and review the story again an hour or two later this might have been better, but I think it went well all things considered.
>>PaulAsaran
Even with the devil analogy, the father bit still works. Within the story's (possibly) pseudo-Judeo-Christian theology, the devil is every bit as much God's son as any of the worshipers; perhaps more, as he was created directly at the beginning of the world.
I was talking to someone last night and mentioned that everyone has parental issues. Different ones, to be sure, but everyone has them.
Even mythical supernatural beings.
Even with the devil analogy, the father bit still works. Within the story's (possibly) pseudo-Judeo-Christian theology, the devil is every bit as much God's son as any of the worshipers; perhaps more, as he was created directly at the beginning of the world.
I was talking to someone last night and mentioned that everyone has parental issues. Different ones, to be sure, but everyone has them.
Even mythical supernatural beings.
>>Hap
I was thinking along similar lines as I wrote the story. In fact, I thought the common image of God as a loving father, which is alluded to in the story, would be enough to make the analogy clear. Seems that was not so, at least for some.
I was thinking along similar lines as I wrote the story. In fact, I thought the common image of God as a loving father, which is alluded to in the story, would be enough to make the analogy clear. Seems that was not so, at least for some.