NaBloPoMo, Day 23 – A Gift for Spinning Tales

The few days the WordPress Daily Post has given me some pretty good writing ideas. Today’s prompt is:

What makes a good storyteller, in your opinion? Are your favorite storytellers people you know or writers you admire?

I’m not a great or even a good verbal storyteller. My verbal stories tend to be expressionless and emotionless and that is a recipe for boring and put your audience to sleep. However, when I relay the same story in writing it tends to make people with the least amount of experience feel included.

Here’s one of my favorite short stories, I wrote a few years ago. I entered it into a  competition last year. It didn’t win the grand prize, but it did come in 3rd place. Woohoo!! You can find more of my short stories at A Short A Day.


Fake A$$ Church Folk

“Will all visitors stand and remain standing.”  Heads turn in all directions to see the handful of fresh, new faces that stand around the church.

“We’re so glad you are worshiping with us, as we know you could have attended another place of worship today.  We want you to feel welcome, and a part of our church family because we are family.”

“Yeah right,” I think to myself.  All the crap and foolishness I see going on here, if this is a how family act; then I want out.

“Now let’s make our visitors feel welcome, by greeting them with a smile and a holy hug.”

“Oh yeah,” I think.  “We are family alright.  The type of family that will smile in your face and stab you in the back all at the same time.”  This is the part of the service I absolutely loathe.  The same people who rolled their eyes at me coming into church and didn’t say two squirts piss to me not even five minutes earlier are now going to start coming my way to give me a damn “holy hug.”

I try to duck and dodge and successfully manage, but alas I am cornered by two of the biggest (literally and figuratively speaking) hypocrites in the church.

Ms. Donaldson is a widow and barely 60, but she looks as though she could be 90.  She’s every bit of 6’1”, 275 – 300 pounds, and she has hands and feet the size of the state Texas and teeth that look like she took each and every one of them from Count Dracula, himself.  I often find myself looking at her to see if I can see an Adam’s apple.

Then there is Ms. Jackie, who’s considerably shorter than Ms. Donaldson.  I’ve never known Ms. Jackie’s last name, and I’m not quite sure anyone else knows either as everyone refers to her as Ms. Jackie.  Anyway Ms. Jackie is probably a shrunken 5’4”, 70ish, and 250 pounds.  Her hands and fingers are severely bent with arthritis and on a good day she uses a can and a bad day a walker.  Today must have been a really good day for her because I saw her spring out of her seat without her cane when it came time to give out the proverbial holy hug.

Ms. Donaldson and Ms. Jackie corner me like a rat in a trap.  How am I going to get out of this?  “Good Morning, Sister Allison,” Ms. Donaldson says to me with her arms outstretched and showing her Dracula teeth.  “How are you this morning?”

Blast now I have to put on my fake smile and go and give her a hug.  I hope she doesn’t dig into my neck with those teeth of hers.  “I’m well, Ms. Donaldson.  How are you?” I ask as she pulls me in close and tight into those 44 double D’s of hers.  She’s trying to kill me right here in church.  She finally lets me go and I gasp for air.  I turn around only to have Ms. Jackie confront me with her arms outstretched for her holy hug.  I once again force a smile, hoping it seems genuine and stoop down to give Ms. Jackie a hug.

I turn to walk away and they say in unison, “God Bless you, baby.”  I’m not even out of ear shot when they begin talking about me.  “You know she’s getting a divorce?”

“Yeah, I heard about that a few weeks ago.  How could she leave that man?”

“And he is a good man and quite handsome too.”

“Good job, too.”

I’m not sure who was saying what, but all I could think about is that this is how the truth gets distorted –gossip mongers.  I feel as if I should turn around and just tell them what is really going on with Bill and me, but I decide against it because, in reality, it’s none of their business.

It has been known that Ms. Donaldson and Ms. Jackie have run people, women in particular, out of the church because they didn’t fit in their mold.  It is also well know that if you are not a part of their clique, than you are clearly against them and they must eliminate before your poison spreads throughout the church.

I guess they have their eyes set on me now, since I’m getting a divorce.  I tell you right now I’m not going to let these two old biddies run me out of church.

I’m really not all that Christian that I will not tell you to go fuck yourself.

2 thoughts on “NaBloPoMo, Day 23 – A Gift for Spinning Tales

  1. As a Bajan my first response in dialect was: “Wuh lausie!” I can’t explain what it really means, but it’s an expression of sorts which I guess is another way for saying: “oh my goodness!”. I am sure this post has touched many a nerve because so many of us who go to church feel the same way. How can you pretend to love me in church when you ignore me, gossip about me and even slander my good name when on the outside? How does that work exactly? I commend you for speaking out and being honest.


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