Reverend Smith

I want to start a series called “Fiction Fridays” where, as the name implies, I write (or at least post) a piece of fiction I wrote based on one of the hundreds of prompts I’ve collected.

I’ve been in such a rut with my writing lately. Hopefully this can spice things up again.

I intend to always display what the prompt was, either at the beginning or at the end of the piece, depending if the piece calls for mystery or not. Maybe when I know I have enough followers, I can turn this into something like, “read the prompt and reverse engineer – guess what the prompt was – in the comments. And then the following Thursday or something I can reveal what the prompt was.

I don’t know. We’ll see where things go from here.

This past Wednesday, my roommate, Natalie, and I lead our writing group and provided different prompts for everyone.  They had their choice of which prompts and we only got fifteen minutes to write. It was a hilarious time where we could get some different creative juices flowing. And I hope to post it exactly as I wrote it, with minimal edits – grammar fixes only. Anyways… my first entry in Fiction Fridays:

Reverend Smith cleared his throat for the third time, but his flock didn’t flinch. One hundred and forty-four eyes stared back at him, glazed over like the doughnuts in his office. How could he get through to them? If he could somehow multiply his passion for Christ and transfer it to these people, the way that Christ multiplied the fish and bread and fed 5,000 people, he would do it in a heartbeat. He begged the Holy Spirit to rouse them.

See, not even his own congregation knew the truth of his faith. He told them of a lonely childhood in a godless home, until a missionary came though town. He didn’t entirely lie to them. He did have a lonely childhood. His parents were explorers, and he was born on a spaceship. His parents never told him of deities on his planet. He had been angry when he arrived on Earth to find this God, the only god that made sense to him – the people of Earth were His chosen people. Did his people know about the Savior? Even from 900 lightyears away, Did His savior still love them?

Prompt: The pastor is an alien from another planet. What happens?