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Teen girl discovers her voice amidst turmoil

On the road home from Barranquilla, I lost my voice.  Papa tried to revive me.

“Bella sol,” he said. 

He whispered it affectionately to me, calling me the beautiful sun, hoping that a happy response would release from my pursed lips and reassure him that all was alright.  But I could not speak.  My thoughts raged within me like driving bulls.  I did not know how Papa remained so calm.  He was so still, so pensive as he maneuvered our rusty pick-up truck slowly and cautiously along the rough terrain leading back to our tomato farm in Pueblo Bosillo, Colombia. 

I wanted to talk, I did.  I wanted to scream.  I wanted to demand of Papa the true purpose behind these monthly trips to Barranquilla.  I wanted to reveal to him that I was not stupid, that I knew something was not right, that he was not paying taxes to the government as he told me and Mama and his sons.  I wanted to bang my fists on the faded gray dashboard in frustration at the vibrant images that kept replaying in my mind, that had replayed in my mind month after month after month….


Author extols the Divine


The DAWN Books- COMING SOON

Intro

I was the villain who destroyed the dominion of Dawn. Certainly, it was not my initial intention, for I was and always remain a fairly civilized man, adorned with higher education and upper-class accoutrements. I always opened doors for women. I ate with my elbows off the table. I paid my weekly tithes to the Church of Siva. Rarely, did I curse. I played well the father and the law-abiding Siva citizen. In all respects, I was innocent, a well-meaning lamb who sought only to provide a customized solution to a neighboring dominion’s customized problem. Such was my delusion.


In truth, I simply lusted for money. Greed was my god. At the start of the Dark Days, my avarice threatened to destroy the dominion, though I could not perceive it at the time. Yes, I was the man who convinced Dawn’s esteemed Council to install my custom-made Sixth Star, that brilliant source of artificial electromagnetic energy which you will learn about in this class. It was me, Dolion Sixth, owner of what was then known as Sixth Industries, who had invested in the Sixth Star, who hired the best scientific minds to build it, who peddled the Star to any dominion desperate enough to buy it.


Thank God, the dominion of Dawn expelled me in the end. But by then, widespread damage had already occurred to their enlightened infrastructure and to the very fabric of their magnificent society. I, myself did not escape unscathed. I lost my brother. I even sacrificed my own daughter. I fought wisdom herself and she crushed me. Truly, I had never felt shame as I did then….


Paralyzed man miraculously walks after repentance

Need to get to the kitchen.  Dang wheelchair.  Whose bright idea was it to make these hallways so narrow?  Dang it.  Don’t have the energy for all this.  Forget it.  The sandwich can wait.  Gonna have to.  Can’t keep banging this clunker around these walls.  Cheap paper walls.  Thin as toilet paper.  Stupid neighbor’ll come down barreling like a pack of wild bulls, give me her waxy look, her pasty face.  You okay?  You need anything?  No.  Get out, you dang on pasty face nosy neighbor.  Back to the living room.  Back to the light.  That window was the only reason why I chose this place.  Didn’t even put up shades.

Watching the clouds roll by.  Could sit here all day, all night.  But eyelids feel like stone.  They close but nothing else.  Where did I put those pills?  Stupid pills.  Blue pills.  White pills.  For pain. For sleep. For sleep. For pain.  Can’t sleep.  Got pain but can’t feel.  Rubber legs.  Rubber feet.  Rubber man.  Rubber band man.  Rubber band band, man.  Hah!  Yes, the band.  The music.  Drinks on Walter.  Another round of drinks on Walter.  Flashy Walter, smiling.  I have another idea.  I know how we can make more.  They will never know.  Boss will never know.  Brilliant idea, Walter, just brilliant.  Walter snapping to the beat.  More money, more breaks.  More money, more steaks.  Steaks on Walter.  Shrimp on Walter.  You’ll get it next time, buddy.  I promise you.  It will work.  Just stick with me. No snitching. Smooches from the ladies.  Brilliant, Walter.  You’re brilliant.  A bottle of champagne, will you?  Champagne in the car.  Champagne in the house.  Champagne in the kitchen.  The kitchen – that’s where I put the pills.  Dang it.  I’ll just sit here and sweat…. 


High school believer chronicles her poetic thoughts of Christ

monotony
dulls the senses

passion
leaves you charred
to the bone

moderation
makes you greedy
secretly longing
for something more

so

like water
touching naked
dirty skin

or crinkly plastic paper
peeled frantically from
sticky candy

is awakening

to an unimaginably
sweeter life

in Him


What does Jesus’ voice sound like…to me?


Jesus heals a modern-day demoniac

“They don’t love me.  They don’t love me.  They…don’t…love…me.  Hah!  Hey, fatso!  Hah!”

“Get away from me, you creep!” yells a pinion.

I call them pinions because they’re ugly.  And they always kick me when they get off the subway – like they don’t see me laying here….

Teen boy wins justice despite lies and corruption

Dirty Lou shifted from one foot to the other while waiting behind the dumpsters in the back alley of 9th street.  He was looking at the blue cell phone in his hand.

“One call, one ring.  No, no.  Two calls, two rings.  Wait.  One ring then one call…,” he mumbled.

Lou needed a hit.  His cocaine high was sharply plummeting, crashing like a thousand heavy stones in his brain.

“Come on.  Come on, you pigs!  Call!” he yelled to the cell phone.

He had reluctantly agreed to do this last buy.  Instead of the usual $20, Lou demanded $50 this time sensing the police were finally ready to take Mona Blaise down for good.  They had surveilled his last two buys perfectly and now had the SWAT hidden just a few blocks away.

Someone opened a nearby apartment window facing the alley.  An elderly woman poked her head out and, upon seeing Lou, frowned disapprovingly.  He screamed wildly at her. 

“What are you looking at, old lady?  Mind your own freakin’ business!”  

She gasped then slammed the window shut and quickly downed the shades.  Lou huffed, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“People always sticking their nose where it don’t belong,” he said.

The cell phone suddenly buzzed.  It emitted a short shrill beep, then stopped, then another identical beep, then stopped.  Lou stuffed the phone in his pocket.  He lifted up his shirt, checked the wire taped to his skeletal chest, then put his shirt back down.  He took a deep breath and finally walked out of the alley towards 11th street to Mona’s house.

It was hot, sticky hot.  Lou tried to walk casually down the sidewalk, but he kept wiping his damp face and fanning himself.  The short two blocks seemed like 20 to his food-starved body.  

“Finally,” he muttered when he saw Mona’s house…. 


Girl, I need to be erased….

Girl, I need to be erased.
You heard me?
Jesus in me is erasure of me.
You know what I’m sayin’?
Erase my ways, Lord – I don’t need it.
Yup, that’s what I told Him.
I said, Lord
remove all that fear,
blackout all that entitlement,
redact all that laziness.
‘Cause girl, I’m a mess!

If Jesus rapped….


FREE EXCERPTS of works by Michelle St. Claire


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