Saturday, November 6, 2010

NaNoWriMo Day 5

Diana Sorensen scrunched down into the thick cushions of her old familiar sofa with a huge home constructed scrumptious ice cream Sundae made of two giant Dairy Queen Blizzard's dumped into a large bowl and covered with extra chocolate sauce and a cupful of chopped mixed nuts. Wiggling her ample buttocks into just the right position, she settled in to watch the Friday evening offering of Fox and Friends. Her day had been disappointing, filled with the vicissitudes of modern-day living, and she felt a need for both comfort and encouragement from genuine Christians like herself.

These endless commercials, she thought, always trying to make a person want stuff, and more and more stuff, mostly sinful worldly goods spawned by the devil's disciples.

She spooned into her mouth a heaping tablespoonful of pure delight as her attention was suddenly captured by the flashing multi colored announcement of a News Alert and Diana watched and listened with all her powers of concentration. The scene was from an earlier interview being conducted by an extraordinarily handsome Fox News reporter speaking to that ridiculous publicity hound, Pindar Balzac, the very same idiot that had been dubbed a Son Of Satan by the Catholic Church.

Diana took another huge mouthful of Sundae and watched, listening closely to the wicked man's words.

"Yes, the aliens have made the facts known to me," he said into the microphone, and it is clear that a new era of knowledge has come to us from the stars, and the message will herald the advent of peace and plenty for us, the people of Planet Earth."

Diana swallowed a portion of ice cream and then coughed as an unmasticated morsel of chocolate syrup and nuts sought to accidentally invade her trachea. "Aliens," she sputtered, "Demons from Hell, you mean."

"What else did these aliens tell you, Mr. Balzac?"

"Tell me? You must understand that they are not telling me anything."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, as your audience has been previously informed, I am a member of a new, more evolved, race of human beings. While this assertion has been met with disbelief by the majority of the world's population, and with scorn by the established religious institutions, and even accompanied by threats of death from some of the more radical of true believers, the scientific community has accepted my words as fact."

"Yes... but if the aliens have not told you anything, how can you possibly know?"

"It's a matter of communication, not merely sub vocal communication, but some type heretofore inconceivable act of conceptual transference of basic certainty, an instantaneous knowing somewhat akin to the mysterious process out minds utilize to inform our consciousness of certain perceptions as being actual facts."

Diana realized that she had not been eating her Sundae, and the ice cream was rapidly melting. Raising the large bowl to her lips, she poured a gargantuan amount of the now soupy dessert into her mouth, and absently chewed the accompanying nuts.

"What about God?" she shouted, spitting an unheeded mass of liquid sugar into the air.

"What about God?" the news reporter said.

"God?" Pindar said. "Yes, I am so glad you asked about that. At long last we have proof that God does indeed exist. It is no longer a matter of Faith alone. The aliens have revealed to me the following:

"The universe itself, in its entirety, is, for want of a better word: GOD. There are two spectra comprising GOD: the concept we label as the dark matter & dark energy combination -- and what science calls natural matter & natural energy, the well known familiar spectrum that biological life is equipped to perceive by using built-in natural sense organs."

The reporter pulled away the microphone, brought it to his own lips, and turned from Pindar. Facing the camera, he said, "There you have it. Straight from the horse's mouth... or perhaps I should say Straight from the mouth of one of our society's newly evolved supermen."

Diana, ignoring the mess she'd made on her carpet, struggled to her feet, padded over to the sink, emptied the bowl, placed it in the dishwasher, and hunted up her purse, from which she removed her cell phone and punched number one.

When the voice answered, she said, "Oh Reverend Potts, were you watching Fox News just now?"

She listened, then said, "That awful, awful man, that Pindar Balzac, he was talking the most blasphemy you could imagine. Oh, Reverend, he was denying the holiness of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ... oh, Reverend, you should have heard what he said about God, about how God ain't no Father that made us all in his image, but is just everything there is, altogether. Oh Reverend, what are we believers to do? Isn't there something we can do, somehow spread the word that this man's not some kind of new kind of man at all but just a minion of Satan come to destroy all that's good and holy, and do you think maybe that he is really the Anti Christ or something... oh, Reverend Potts, I'm so scared."

After listening a while longer, Diana said, "Oh yes... I'll do just that. Oh thank you, Reverend, I knew you'd tell me what to do. I'll see you there, then. And thank you again."

With a big smile on her face, Diana pressed the 'end' button and returned the phone to her purse.

# # #

The Right Reverend Matthew K. Potts, D.D. certified by the Universal Life Church and shepherd to a tiny flock of the faithful in Wheatland, Indiana, hung up the phone then walked into his living room and sat down in his over sized Laz-y-Boy rocker. It was going to happen, he thought. Finally, fortune was smiling down upon his weary old head.

God helps those who help themselves, he reminded himself. And an opportunity like this one comes along only once it a man's lifetime. It would be a sin to pass it up from excessive caution and lack of saintly zeal.

Miss Diana Sorensen, fat, frowzy, and incredibly stupid would be the perfect instrument to work God's will, and thereby elevating Reverend Potts to the pinnacle of power he so deserved.

Aliens. Space travelers. Science Fiction tales. Pindar Balzac; what kind of pagan name is that? Sounds like a gypsy.

Well, Mr. Pindar Balzac is in for a big surprise.

# # #

Special Agent David Sawyer entered the office of his immediate superior, Tobias Zenger and said, "No, I can't explain it, but it happens and all we can do is to try and find out how they do it."

Zenger surveyed to face of his best operative and said, "Easier said than done. These are not ordinary dissidents. They have something special going for them. This thing of being evolved might just prove to be more valid than we thought it was."

"I still say it's a trick. It's an illusion, that's all it is."

"'Let's hope so."

# # #

Nola Klok was lying on her back completely nude and totally relaxed upon the massage table beneath the warm red glow of a triple faced sunlamp when the door, which she knew she had most definitely locked, opened and Genna Greene walked in.

The two women looked into each other's eyes.

Without a word being spoken, each of them breathed a simultaneous sigh, as if in recognition of a deep mutual warm and loving acceptance that outweighed any inadequate audible expression of emotional kinship.

Nola rolled slowly onto her side, so that her ample breasts, her rounded belly, and the hairless mound of firm flesh adorning the juncture of her upper thighs faced Genna's gaze. "Genna . . ." she whispered.

The standing woman slowly removed her own clothing and then joined the reclining sunbather, sinking down upon the sheet covered table top and gathering Nola into a gently embrace, carefully molding her long slender body against that of the shorter, softer, more curvaceous one.

"Genna," Nola murmured, her mouth nestled between Genna's small breasts, "I was so afraid for you. I thought you... I can't help wondering if, you know, if we could be wrong. Wrong about all of this."

"Wrong?" How could this be wrong. The two of us are..."

"No," said Nola, "I don't mean our relationship. I'm talking about the alien thing. You know, how they are guiding us toward another enlightenment breakthrough, you know, those of us who are evolved."

"Here now, honey, snuggle closer, okay? That's it, closer."

"But we could be wrong, you know. It's mostly Pindar who receives the messages, the directed feelings, I mean. Then he explains it all to the rest of us. Do you suppose that he's more evolved than we are? Is that it? Do you think? Maybe?"

"I think you should forget about it for now. We can discuss the relative sensitivity strengths of the others later. Right now, I think you should come closer... okay?"

"Closer? How can we get any closer than this?"

"I'll show you... like this... and like this...

No comments:

Post a Comment