Good V Evil
This week’s fabulous words to play with:
GoodGood Light Purity Halcyon (calm, peaceful, tranquil) Divine Absolution (act of absolving; a freeing from blame or guilt; release from consequences, obligations, or penalties.) Altruistic (unselfishly concerned for or devoted to the welfare of others) Ethereal (light, airy, or tenuous: extremely delicate or refined: heavenly or celestial: of or relating to the upper regions of space.) Hallow (to make holy; sanctify; consecrate. to honor as holy; consider sacred; venerate) Sympathy Ally Smile
Evil Dark Ominous (portending evil or harm; foreboding; threatening; inauspicious) Malignant (disposed to cause harm, suffering, or distress deliberately; feeling or showing ill will or hatred. very dangerous or harmful in influence or effect.) Anathema (a person or thing detested or loathed: a person or thing accursed or consigned to damnation or destruction. a formal ecclesiastical curse involving excommunication. any imprecation of divine punishment. a curse; execration.) Sin Monster Ravage Possess Adversarial (a person, group, or force that opposes or attacks; opponent; enemy; foe.) Grimace Bile (Physiology. a bitter, alkaline, yellow or greenish liquid, secreted by the liver, that aids in absorption and digestion, especially of fats.ill temper; peevishness. Old Physiology. either of two humors associated with anger and gloominess.)
This week we could choose either list or a combination of both.
In all of eternity it seemed odd that the two eternal beings would be best friends. They were both the envoys of their respective eternities.
Wayne was the special envoy from the dark depths of hell and Greg was God’s shining light on earth. So in theory where Greg was all goodness and light, divine and altruistic Wayne was evil and dark a malignant scourge on society with the scariest and most ominous of presences.
At least that’s how they wanted to be known. In actual fact Greg and Wayne were the best of friends and as it was Sunday, the so called day of rest, they had met as they had for the past two millennia at Rose’s Coffee and Cake for their Sunday meeting.
It was a always a point of contention between the two that Greg turn off his ethereal light as not only was it disturbing to the other customers but it had a habit of turning Wayne’s skinny white latte sour.
As a compromise Wayne would dampen down his adversarial nature, which was intimidating to any one who happened to look into his eyes. So with both divine beings settled and more approachable they would meet and enjoy Rose’s fare for not only did she make a brilliant latte she sold the best Angel cakes and Devil’s Mud cake you would ever taste.
Usually at these meetings the two would discuss the previous weeks soul collection. It was a sort of personal scoreboard each loved to indulge in. Wayne has a thing for possessions and would often brag about his collected rewards ravaging the community and spewing forth bile in the most monstrous of ways.
To Greg, all this was such an anathema to his very pure soul. Sin he shivered over and it often showed a crack in his normally halcyon personality. He would smile vainly at the thought of the lost souls being gathered by Wayne’s unsympathetic allies and cast into the depths of hell’s burning furnaces.
There were of course good things on both sides. Hell served the best ham sandwiches in all eternity, which of course played havoc with the Jewish souls. Heaven was known for its slow cooked casseroles, which always surprised both entities when they thought about it.
Wayne found absolution the absolute anathema and would ridicule Greg’s belief that the light of absolution was the way forward. Wayne had little sympathy for Greg’s contention that without absolution there was no move towards any sort of light and you’d be wasting your time in any sort of earnest hallowing to change that.
Greg would simply grimace as the suggestion that heaven was all in the mind and that hell was everyone’s reality, sip on his latte, munch into his angel cake and remind Wayne that the next round was on him.
Tale Weaver # 55 Making Sense of Nonsense – Agrotive
Today’s word to play with is “agrotive”. Use it in any form you wish but in a way that explains the meaning you attach to it.
Charles had acquired an agrotive ability. He liked to exercise his agrotive abilities at every opportunity.
He wasn’t the smartest person you were likely to come across but there was no mistaking his agrotive skills.
You see Charles could communicate with angels.
It was fortunate for him that at that very moment in time there were two divine entities looking for a way to communicate with the human rabble, for that is how they saw them.
Charles thought it rather spectacular that the angel of God would appear at the end of his bed. The bright shimmering light gave way to the forlorn sight of Greg, God’s angel on earth looking as he did so often very down in the mouth with a cup and saucer in hand sipping tea from time to time.
Greg had a friend, Wayne, who came from the other end of the divine spectrum.
Wayne was Hell’s representative on earth and as such always looked smug and happy.
It was no secret that Hell served the best coffee and the only place in eternity to get a decent ham sandwich and Wayne would often show up in Charles’ room, sandwich in one hand and a skim latte in the other and eat them in front of Greg.
Charles had learned from Greg that Heaven was famous for the slow cooked casserole and Greg often had bits dribbling on his heavenly attire.
Today Charles needed their help.
He was in a dilemma and divine intervention was called for, especially if you could get it.
The issue lay with Maisie Dotes. Maisie had an identical twin sister in Dozie Dotes and the girls were known to swap around when it came to boyfriends but Charles knew it was Maisie who bothered him as Dozie was in prison after she and her boyfriend Jake “The Loser” Carter had tried to rob the bank. It all went well until at the end Jake realised in his excitement he had forgotten to wear his mask.
So as Charles sat on his bed with Wayne and Greg either side of him he told them of his flirtations with Maisie.
Greg said to be cautious. Women could be dodgy.
Wayne wanted to know if he had gotten any from Maisie. Charles looked at him in puzzlement.
‘Sex,’ stated Wayne taking another bite from his ham sandwich…
Charles gulped and said no.
‘Sex isn’t everything,’ piped in Greg, eyeing off Wayne’s sandwich and committing sin by coveting his neighbour’s sandwich.
“How would you know?’ asked Wayne, ‘you lot are all of no fixed gender, its just speculation on your part. We on the other hand have it all, do it all and love it all.’
Charles had the sense that this wasn’t helping him at all and like so many other times when the Angels had come together they ended up arguing over who was the better and how much better that was.
Charles had had enough. He pulled his sheets up over his head causing the two bickering angels to cease their bickering.
‘Charles,’ said Greg. ’We are trying to help.’
‘Yes,’ added Wayne. ‘We just have different views on the subject. I have a view, Greg has nothing.’
“I have God and righteousness on my side, he has sin and promiscuity on his.’
‘At least I have a side, you have a bump, a nothing.’
‘Shut up!’ said Charles. ‘Should I ask Maisie to the dance on Friday? Yes or no?’
‘Yes,’ replied Wayne. ‘Go get um cowboy.’
‘No,’ answered Greg. ‘You’ve no idea where she has been and what diseases she may be harbouring.’
‘That’s all a bit fatalistic isn’t it,’ said Wayne
‘Life’s like that, you can never be too sure.’
Charles looked at one then the other. ‘I’m going to sleep right now. I feel I have exhausted by agrotive powers for one night. Good night gentlemen, I’ll see you when I next don’t need your advice.’ He fell back against his pillows and was almost immediately asleep.
Greg looked at Wayne and then at his ham sandwich.
‘Oh for goodness sake Greg, here take the thing, plenty more where that came from.’
‘I thought we gave him good advice,’ said Greg munching away and feeling the sheer wonder of a decent ham sandwich.
Agrotive: the ability to speak with angels
Wordle #101 “March 14, 2016” – The Novitiate.
This week’s words: Glare Nyctophilia (a love or preference for night, darkness) Novitiate (the state or period of being a novice of a religious order or congregation. the quarters occupied by religious novices during probation. the state or period of being a beginner in anything. a novice.) Structure Tattoo Eristic (a person who engages in debate; conversationalist. the art of disputation.) Erogenous Irregular Adjust Lurk Siphon Terrorize
Greg, Heavens own sent angel on earth and his ‘friend’ Wayne, Hells erstwhile representative on earth sat at the breakfast table looking over their schedule for the day.
They both looked at the date, Wayne with relish and Greg with his usual sense of dread.
It was the day they visited the novitiate.
For Wayne it was a sort of smorgasbord of souls all ready and waiting to be tempted into eternal damnation. Greg on the other hand was trepidatous about the visit as it meant appealing to the novice’s good graces and in so many cases the novices had none. It wasn’t hard to understand when you considered the rigors of monastic life.
The glare of temptation was strong, these were vibrant and sensuous women forced to ignore the calling of every erogenous zone on their body day in and day out. It was a very tough gig for so many.
Sister Amanda Jane or Sister A-J as she preferred had discovered she was a nyctophile and roamed the cloisters at night in search of another nun who might join her in erogenous discovery. Of course there were many candidates, Sister Willomena Child, known outside of chapel as the Sister Wild Thing, was one such willing body.
She was one of Wayne’s favourites and had even allowed Wayne to tattoo his name onto her left breast. Wayne had recently completed a tattoo course at Hades Tatts and Body Piercing School for Devilish Demons and was always eager to put his newfound skills to use.
To say that both entities disagreed over most things was putting it mildly. So often they engaged in eristic debate which often got heated and led to the two angels stamping their feet and giving off in Greg’s case small angelic puffs of smoke from his feet and in Wayne’s case small devilish flames from out his ears. Either way you looked at it, it was something to adjust to, as it was very unbecoming on both sides.
On this particular day Greg had insisted that he see Sister A-J to try and save her soul while Wayne was happy to pay Sister Wild Thing one of what he called an irregular visit. Greg shuddered at the thought of what that meant but he was sure it involved some sort of syphoning of some sort that was sure to end in tears.
Greg wanted to give Sister A-J a structure by which she might live her chaste life even though he doubted she was very chaste at all more likely she was chased more often than chaste.
Greg found Sister A-J lurking with Sister Wild Thing in a very un-novitiate pose at the entrance to the novitiate a pose which he knew was designed to terrorise the other novices as they went down to early morning prayer.
As they approached the two sisters they became aware of the two women making a b-line for Wayne who was grinning from ear to ear and showing a very non-entity response held out his arms to the two women.
Wayne acted quickly offering Sister A-J a tattoo on any part of her body that wouldn’t cause him embarrassment. She turned to Wayne and begged him to put one on her…Greg shut his ears at that very moment the glare of his own damnation terrorising his own holy person.
He looked up to see the two nuns either side of Wayne disappearing down the sacred cloisters with Wayne offering to help them discover a new erogenous zone known only to the devil inside of you.
Greg looking disconsolate, looked down and saw that Wayne had left him a ham sandwich* which under the circumstances was a whole lot better than dealing with ladies tattoos and erogenous zones.
* Previous Wayne and Greg Tales appeared at:
Wordle March 29
This week’s wordle: Scald Await Vinyl Passionless Isolophilia (a strong affection/preference for being alone) Carcass Gateway Hallucinate Mosaic Opia (n. the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable–their pupils glittering, bottomless and opaque–as if you were peering through a hole in the door of a house, able to tell that there’s someone standing there, but unable to tell if you’re looking in or looking out) Shadow
Kershaw was dying. His laboured breaths signalled the end of a passionless life. The strange quirk of fate about Kershaw was that he was a passionate lover of recorder music. He had a great stack of old vinyl records with one always on his turntable. Even in his dying days the nursing staff had allowed for his favourite music to be played.
Awaiting at the end of his bed were the two deities vying for his soul. For even though the body died, ones soul did not. Kershaw’s soul was in a dilemma deciding which of the entities was making him the better deal.
Greg, the heavenly deity had made it clear that heaven would not accept his vinyl collection. Harps yes, recorders no. As it was Greg thought harps twenty-four hours a day was bad enough but endless recorder music was just the thing to scald the most patient and compassionate heavenly soul.
Wayne, the devil’s advocate, on the other hand saw no problem with the vinyl recordings. As it was he saw the recorder music enhancing the nature of hell. After all in hell there was no time off nor weekends. There were only breaks. Breaks that allowed you for a short time to get away from stoking the furnace and Kershaw may well ‘enjoy’ as best he could at any rate, the vinyls he so loved.
Kershaw’s soul looked from one entity to another. In Greg it saw a life of roses, of money growing on trees and slow cooked casseroles, which were heavens signature dish. In Wayne it saw within the opia of his eyes, the sense that even though he offered great stuff like corruption, bribery and ham sandwiches to die for, there lurked those ravaging fires he had been told to avoid from childhood.
It would be no easy decision but one he would have to make soon as all that would be left of him would be a fleshy carcass good for nothing but fertilizer.
He reflected a moment glad he was an Isolophobe, that there would be no one else to consider in his decision.
He looked again at Greg from whom he could sense the mosaic of his life being formed above his head with one last heavenly piece to be inserted. There was suddenly the smell of the slow cooked casserole wafting up his near dead nose and the unmistakable plucking of harmonious harps away in the distance. He could feel himself hallucinating as his mind fought to stay rational.
Above Wayne he could see a shadow, a gateway forming to a life of desires and wants. Wayne had even promised him an eternity in isolophilia if he so wanted, at least during his break times but that was in the small print, which he kept to himself until after the deal was done.
Since Kershaw had been such a passionless man and as he felt his earthly life being exhausted, in his mind he flipped a coin, which landed between both entities.
The look on Wayne’s face told him the result.