This week’s words: Shibboleth (Noun. A peculiarity of pronunciation, behavior, mode of dress, etc., that distinguishes a particular class or set of persons. A slogan; catchword. A common saying or belief with little current meaning or truth.) Petal Rescind Density Void Stagger Hinge Spirit Gloam (Noun. Twilight) Kyrkogrim (refer to the Wikipedia page https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Church_Grim) Black Tweed

The Good Reverent stood in his church pulpit resplendent in his Shibboleth of black tweed. His fingers crossed as he surveyed his ever-dwindling congregation. High above him in the church bell tower the kyrkogrim belched loudly as it snacked on the left over bacon rind the Good Reverend’s wife had cooked that morning. Thankfully for most of the congregation only the Good Reverend heard the kyrkogrim and he was grateful for that.

The Good Reverend had done his research on the kyrkogrim and discovered that in his neck of the woods the kyrkogrim was indeed a small dark skinned creature who loved to hang about in the bell tower and at times give an unholy tug on the bell rope usually at some ungodly hour thus waking all within earshot. The locals considered their church haunted by an unhappy spirit. They were far more likely to accept this if he/she/it rang the bells in the gloam when so many of them were roamin’ in the gloamin’ taking in the evening air.

But they were never to be so lucky as the kyrkogrim did in fact have a hinge loose and an axe to grind with every local who spoke ill of it. And that was most folk especially after the 3am ringing of the bell.

The Good Reverend would look up into the void of the bell tower, give a slight shake of his head to suggest he was not pleased only to stagger backwards as usually a collection of hymn books would suddenly rain down upon him.

After Sunday services if the kyrkogrim had been particularly obnoxious the Good Reverend would climb into the bell tower to have a word with the offending kyrkogrim. The kyrkogrim was always making promises to behave. ‘Settle Petal.” He would say to the Good Reverend. Then go on a long spiel about rights, wrongs and all things in-between before suggesting that all threats previously made by the Good Reverend be rescinded and they start over again. After all he would argue the density of the kyrkogrim population was close to extinction and did the Good Reverent want on his consciousness the fact that he could very well drive the last of the kyrkogrims into the gloaming never to return.

“Isn’t your life richer for my being in it?” he would ask his voice faltering as if overcome with emotion. The Good Reverend would think to himself; “What a load of shibboleth!!” Then he would turn his back and climb back down the ladder from the bell tower vowing to not let the kyrkogrim get to him like he did.

So as not to be staggered too much by the demands of having such a creature in his bell tower the Good Reverend made it a point to always leave a rasher of bacon out for his kyrkogrim for he may be a hinge short of a good door but he was his kyrkogrim and he liked it that way.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/09/26/wordle-122-september-26th-2016/