This week’s prompts are at the bottom. Practice makes perfect. Let me know what you think.
Here’s how to play along, if you are unsure.
Mark pulled his coat tight around him and listened to his stomach growl. The night was cold but at least it wasn’t raining. Finally he fell into a fitful sleep, or maybe he never really got to sleep before realizing that someone was shaking his shoulder.
“Wake up. Wake up,” the someone said
“Aw right, aw right, I’m going,” Mark grumbled. He was accustomed to the cops rousting him when he was sleeping rough. He sat up and pulled on his beard, trying to smooth it down.
“You don’t gotta go, mate,” the voice said. “Just sit up for a bit. Talk to me. I got some questions to ask, but I wanna sit down.”
Mark rubbed his eyes and peered at the someone behind the voice. “You’re from England, aren’t you?” Mark asked thinking he recognized the accent.
“No, I’m from France actually, but I’ve had the operation.”
Mark grinned at the old joke and sat up. The someone sat on the wooden slats next to him and felt around his coat pockets till he found a flask which he removed and screwed the cap off of. He took a drink and offered it to Mark.
Mark shook his head, “no thanks.” He stretched, “whatcha want to know?”
“My name’s Abasdarhon,” he said, “you sure you don’t want some of this?” he held the flask out again.
“I’m sure. How’d you say your name again? What kind of name is that anyway? Is it English? Or French?”
“It’s neither, actually. I guess you could say it’s heavenly.” He took another sip from the flask. “Until tonight I worked there, but I quit, or maybe I got fired. Anyway I don’t work there anymore. I was cast out and I landed here.”
“What’d you do there?” Mark asked wishing he was more awake.
“I was an angel. Specifically, the angel of the fifth hour of the night.”
“Get outa town!” Mark exclaimed, “You’re that Abasdarhon?”
“Fraid so,” the someone said, “You’ve heard of me?”
“Sure I heard of you,” Mark said, “I was an altar boy.” He reached for the flask now, which the angel surrendered willingly. “What’re you doing here, Mr Abasdarhon?”
Abasdarhon eyed Mark and took the proffered flask back as Mark wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, “I’m thinking about joining up with the likes of you, Mark. Seein’ as I’m not working in heaven any longer. What d’ya do down here besides nap on park benches? Oh, please call me Abe. Only my mother called me Abasdarhon; and then only if she was mad at me.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Mark was flabbergasted.
“O’course, I’m kidding. Angels don’t have mothers. Jeeze what’re ya thinkin’!” He took another swig from the flask.
Mark’s voice took a serious tone and he said, “Well, sometimes, I panhandle or manage to snag an odd job ever now and again. Some days I run a three card Monty game down at the beach.” He reached out his hand and Abe put the flask in it.
This week’s prompts are:
- should I come back later
- The closet was locked
- Time becomes elastic
Go ahead and dive in, set your imagination free!
Ready, Set, Go – you have 25 minutes, but if that is not possible, take as long as you need and, have fun!