Post by storytime on Jul 12, 2007 12:01:22 GMT -5
This is the opening to 'Tales of the 85th The Lord will Provide'
Please critique and be brutal! If the opening is no good everyone will stop
.
Tales of the 85th: The Lord Will Provide
Chapter One: Cleansed by Fire
He looked down at her in wonder. The Lord, in His infinite knowledge and mercy had provided her for him. He had been her second and her last. Her beta and omega. She had made a good confession, had been absolved, and now would be cleansed, cleansed by fire in and by the house of the Lord. Her sin forgiven her, she would be taken by The Lord’s heavenly Angles straight to His mansion where she would dwell for all eternity. And The Lord would be pleased that he, Father Patrick Jonathon O’Reilly had served Him. It was not unlike Abraham and Isaac, except that there was no surrogate ram. The ram existed only in the Davidian sense, and in that it was fulfilled through Father Patrick’s efforts. As he poured the gasoline around her and throughout the altar, he sang the hymn “Bringing in the sheep, bringing in the sheep, we’re coming to Aunt Joyce’s, bringing in the sheep.” He loved how children would mistake the words and never know. He loved children, and he loved to teach them in the ways of the Lord, and he loved to save them after they had lost their innocence; but unlike those sick priests, who loved boys, he was righteous, loving boys was an abomination, he loved only girls, girls who would confess to him how they had lost their virtue. Girls who would be grateful to be saved! Then he took an old candle from the Offertory, very little of it remained, and he scraped it out of the glass holder carefully so that the wick was still showing and placed it at her feet. Lighting it, he muttered, again, the prayer of absolution, then turned and left through the passageway that in years past, had led to the Rectory. The Rectory was now demolished, part of an urban renewal project that had faltered and failed. All that was left now was the basement. The Lord had provided that basement to Father Patrick. The Lord knew that Father Patrick needed a safe home! As he left, he considered the wonders and goodness of the Lord who had provided, and who would always provide!
Chapter Two: The 85th Station House
Detective Shalela looked at her self in the mirror. She had her hair pulled back in a severe bun, she wore no makeup, and she had a business suit on. She was tired of being thought of as a school girl. She was a professional, with a college degree; it wasn’t her fault that she still looked like Lolita! Detective Sergeant Osmond walked into the tiny unisex washroom and said, “You better remember to lock the door when you’re in here, sweetie”.
“I am not a sweetie, damnit! You’re only five years older than me, Wendy; don’t treat me like a little sister!”
“Ok, ok,” Osmond said, holding her hands up as if to ward off a blow, “I know you’re all grown up now, and maybe, even, have a boy friend!” she continued as she broke into laughter.
Shalela glared at Osmond and pulled hard on the door.
“You have to unlock it first, honey” Osmond said.
“I’m not a damn honey either!”
“Well, Detective, it won’t open until you do” Osmond remarked
Captain Cristofer was in his office and was pleased. It was
O’clock and no one had been murdered, raped, or robbed yet. There were 62 open cases, and only 10 of those were active. His Detectives were getting along with the uniforms, God was in heaven, and all was well. Just then, Detective Lieutenant Smith came in and sat down, unannounced, uninvited, and with a look of impending doom on his face. Captain Cristofer sighed, things were back to normal.
“You remember that old church that burned a few days ago?” Smith asked.
“Yeah” Cristofer replied, he was afraid to ask for more info.
“Well, it wasn’t an accident” Smith continued. Cristofer didn’t even nod his head.
“They found the charred remains of a body’
Please critique and be brutal! If the opening is no good everyone will stop
.Tales of the 85th: The Lord Will Provide
Chapter One: Cleansed by Fire
He looked down at her in wonder. The Lord, in His infinite knowledge and mercy had provided her for him. He had been her second and her last. Her beta and omega. She had made a good confession, had been absolved, and now would be cleansed, cleansed by fire in and by the house of the Lord. Her sin forgiven her, she would be taken by The Lord’s heavenly Angles straight to His mansion where she would dwell for all eternity. And The Lord would be pleased that he, Father Patrick Jonathon O’Reilly had served Him. It was not unlike Abraham and Isaac, except that there was no surrogate ram. The ram existed only in the Davidian sense, and in that it was fulfilled through Father Patrick’s efforts. As he poured the gasoline around her and throughout the altar, he sang the hymn “Bringing in the sheep, bringing in the sheep, we’re coming to Aunt Joyce’s, bringing in the sheep.” He loved how children would mistake the words and never know. He loved children, and he loved to teach them in the ways of the Lord, and he loved to save them after they had lost their innocence; but unlike those sick priests, who loved boys, he was righteous, loving boys was an abomination, he loved only girls, girls who would confess to him how they had lost their virtue. Girls who would be grateful to be saved! Then he took an old candle from the Offertory, very little of it remained, and he scraped it out of the glass holder carefully so that the wick was still showing and placed it at her feet. Lighting it, he muttered, again, the prayer of absolution, then turned and left through the passageway that in years past, had led to the Rectory. The Rectory was now demolished, part of an urban renewal project that had faltered and failed. All that was left now was the basement. The Lord had provided that basement to Father Patrick. The Lord knew that Father Patrick needed a safe home! As he left, he considered the wonders and goodness of the Lord who had provided, and who would always provide!
Chapter Two: The 85th Station House
Detective Shalela looked at her self in the mirror. She had her hair pulled back in a severe bun, she wore no makeup, and she had a business suit on. She was tired of being thought of as a school girl. She was a professional, with a college degree; it wasn’t her fault that she still looked like Lolita! Detective Sergeant Osmond walked into the tiny unisex washroom and said, “You better remember to lock the door when you’re in here, sweetie”.
“I am not a sweetie, damnit! You’re only five years older than me, Wendy; don’t treat me like a little sister!”
“Ok, ok,” Osmond said, holding her hands up as if to ward off a blow, “I know you’re all grown up now, and maybe, even, have a boy friend!” she continued as she broke into laughter.
Shalela glared at Osmond and pulled hard on the door.
“You have to unlock it first, honey” Osmond said.
“I’m not a damn honey either!”
“Well, Detective, it won’t open until you do” Osmond remarked
Captain Cristofer was in his office and was pleased. It was
O’clock and no one had been murdered, raped, or robbed yet. There were 62 open cases, and only 10 of those were active. His Detectives were getting along with the uniforms, God was in heaven, and all was well. Just then, Detective Lieutenant Smith came in and sat down, unannounced, uninvited, and with a look of impending doom on his face. Captain Cristofer sighed, things were back to normal.“You remember that old church that burned a few days ago?” Smith asked.
“Yeah” Cristofer replied, he was afraid to ask for more info.
“Well, it wasn’t an accident” Smith continued. Cristofer didn’t even nod his head.
“They found the charred remains of a body’
and 
all
time for me 
echoes, hope you all are doing well 
