Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Fate or Destiny?

Waves of light beamed through the stained glass window to create a warped kalidoscope of colors below. Priest Paul sat silently on his mat. "Are we all predestined or do we have a choice?", he whispered to himself. The Priest looked up at the Neon Oracle for wisdom. "Destiny is not by chance but by choice", it flashed. "What did the 144,000 do to deserve this?" the Priest questioned. The Neon Oracle simply repeated its message, "Destiny is not by chance but by choice." Priest Paul stared at the colors on the floor as they slowly changed locations as the sun set. The 144,000 were all born June 6, 2006. It had to be chance being born on that date.

All of the sudden the pattern changed. Priest Paul looked up to see Mary standing over him, a white halo around her face. "Bless you Mary", Priest Paul said as Mary reached forward and handed him her notebook. He opened it to the bookmarked page and smiled. "You answered my prayer", Priest Paul said, "Now I have the lsit of people to be saved." Mary looked at him puzzled. "Born 666, the Chosen Deceiver shall martyer 144,000 of them", Priest Paul replied, "but the question is who are the 144,000? You answered this question in your notebook."

Hearing the quote, Peter walked closer. He looked into Priest Paul's eyes, there was a dark look that he had never seen before, was it the look for evil or determination.
"What do we do now?" Peter asked. "We follow them on that date stated in the list. If we keep them alive until 12:01 am then we have saved them", Priest Paul insisted.

Peter decided it was determination and grabbed Priest Paul's hand. I look forward to working with you to stop this evil deed.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Chosen Deceiver - The Prophesy

As the sun began to hide behind the horizon, Priest Paul placed his mat on the floor, knelt on it and begain to meditate. He prayed for rejuvenation and revelation into his great sadness. He leaned forward to place his head on the ground and a small paper fell out of his pocket. He picked it up, realized where it came from. It was a tract from the man at Yonge Dundas Square. He thought back to what the man said: Fate and Destiny. He looked up at the Neon Oracle for guidance but none was given. Priest Paul picked up the paper. As his fingers touched the pages a message started to appear.

Born 666, the Chosen Deceiver shall martyer 144,000 of thee.

Priest Paul dropped the note. "The Chosen Deceiver must be close" he thought, "His presence is the cause my great sadness. Is it my destiny to find the Chosen Deceiver and stop him? How will I find him?" "Show me a sign", Priest Paul screamed.

Friday, May 11, 2012


If I had to pick one word to describe Peter it would be dedicated.  He was dedicated first to his family, next to his God, and thirdly to his work.  Peter was a cabinet maker by trade.  He prefered when things where transparent so he loved using laquers and stains over paints.  Cabinet making was a family tradition.  He hoped his daughter Mary would take on his trade as he had no sons to pass it on to.  Mary was more interested in writing.  You rarely saw her without her dark red notebook.  She loved to copy down other people's poems as it inspired her to write her own.  Peter was reluctent to admit it but he knew she was quite the gifted writer.

It was a long day at work and Peter grabbed an iced cold beer from the fridge and sat on the couch to watch the news.  Just as he sat on the sofa and clicked the remote, the door flew open.  Mary was home with her notebook under her arm as ususal.  Peter turned to greet her and realized she had been crying.  "What's wrong baby?" Peter asked.  "I feel really sad and I don't know why", Mary said.  Her arms shook as she raised the notebook and passed it to Peter.  He smiled at her as he opened it to the bookmark.  "There is a list of names and dates", Peter smiled.  "These are special dates in their lives", Mary paused, "but I don't think they are good dates."  Peter's smile faded as the sadness crept into him as well.  "We must go see Priest Paul.  I will take you in the morning", Peter said.  Mary felt exhausted so she gave Peter a hug and went off to bed.  Peter continued to lie on the couch watching the news.  Out of the corner of his eye he kept seeing the red book.  It was like it was pulling him to it.  He picked up the book and started counting the names.  As he counted the last name, he heard it repeated: 144,000.  He clicked off the remote and all was silent.  Peter laid his head back and fell asleep.

Thursday, May 3, 2012


A typical day in Mary's life consisted of waking up at 7:00 AM to mediate. Her King James sat beside her as she sat in her Yoga Pose, eyes closed. "Lord Grant me the ability to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the things I cannot", she requested. Eyes still closed she reached down, grabbed the King James, opened it at random and pointed at a section. Opening her eyes she read the verse she found. Romans 9:2 "I have great heaviness and continual sorrow in my heart." Mary smiled a little. She had just confirmed the feelings she had were indeed from God. Mom prepared eggs and toast, which Mary quickly devoured. Teeth were brushed as was her long red hair. Mom put two elastics in her hair one on each side before rushing her out the door for school.

The street was quiet, only a couple other kids on their way to school. Mary could hear a familiar song blasting from the radio. Dum, Dum, Dum. Dum, Dum, De, Dum. She turned to see the Purple Haze that was Violet, her best friend. They continued on together singing their theme song as it played on the radio. "Violet, have you ever had one of those days where no matter what you do, you feel sad and tired?", Mary asked. "Yes they are called school days", Violet said chuckling. She gave Mary a little shove and Mary pushed her back. They both started to laugh and continued to school.

The school yard was filled with kids screaming, balls bouncing, and teachers watching. All this activity stopped for an instant when the bell rang, soon was replaced by kids running for the lines. Today was not the typical day. When the bell rang, the silence continued: everybody froze. Mary sat on the ground and lowered her head. She opened her black notebook and frantically began to write a list of names. Page after page was filled with names and dates. Violet ran over and tried to shake her out of her trance. Violet started to panic but finally she broke out of it. "Are you okay?" Violet asked tearfully. "I am now but my wrist is really sore", Mary said, looking up at the Purple Haze then down at her black notebook. "I don't know what this means", she said showing it to Violet. "We have to go, we are already an hour late for school but we should talk about this later", said Violet. Mary placed the black notebook in her bag and continued inside with her friends.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Priest Paul

It was a cold and rainy day, but that didn't stop an old man on his quest for a morning coffee.  He rushed under each awning to stay dry until he reach a familar red sign.  Opening the door he grabbed the first booth and sat.  "What can I get you?"  a waitress asked.  "A nice hot coffee to warm my soul", the old man said looking across at the rugged old building long since condemned.  "I see you eying Priest Paul's Church", the waitress said, "If you are interested I have a story to tell about Priest Paul."  "I love a heartwarming tale",The old man smiled.  "If you are looking for that kind of story this will only disappoint", she said turning to walk away.  He grabbed her arm, "Wait, you have caught my interest.  What happened to Priest Paul?"

Priest Paul was a humble man devoted to his faith in God and Mother Mary.  Each evening before the sun set, he prayed and repented for his daily sins under the light of the neon oracle.  Its golden glow of bovine brilliance glared and flashed its crimson wisdom upon him.  Each morning before sunrise he would kneel and pray for God to fill him to the depth of his soul with joy a sense of purpose while he glanced at the same bovine brilliance, seeking his answers.   Most days God reluctantly answered Priest Paul's prayer despite his pagan rituals.  On this particular morning God decided not to fill the deep void in his soul with joy, but rather deepen it with great anguish and sorrow.  Confused, Priest Paul remained on his mat seek guidance.  "Father, why do I feel such anguish and sorrow?  I pray you will reveal this to me", He prayed.  The priest continued meditating for another hour but nothing was revealed.  Even the Neon Oracle with its golden glow failed to flash its daily dose of wisdom.  Disappointed, the priest stood up, placed his mat in the corner and headed for the door.

The old man looked at the front window, at the red sign featuring the outline of a cow.  He looked down to see it was unplug and looked back up at the waitress.  "We don't turn that sign on anymore.  Not since those terrible events", she said.  "I must know more", he said.

Down the steps to the street sat a little girl with fiery hair and eyes as green as the lush hills of ireland. Lines of tears flowed down her cheek. Priest Paul knew here well. Her name was Mary and her father attended Mass every sunday. The priest sat beside her and placed his arm around her. "Why are you crying?" He asked. "I don't know", Mary said, "I was walking past here on my way to school. As I reached the steps, I felt exhausted and sat down. As I sat, I felt deep sadness come over me. I started to cry. I feel a lot better now."

The deep void was not limited to Priest Paul.  Mary was a little girl with hair of fire and eyes as green as the lush hills of Ireland.  This morning a small stream flowed down those lush green hills as Mary rolled over to face the red glow of the clock reminding her of the time.  It was 7:00 AM, time to meditate.  The smell of fresh eggs and toast reached Mary's nose and she curled her lips trying to smile but failed.  She reached over for her King James Bible and placed it on her lap preparing for her morning question but before she was able to there was a yell from downstairs.  "Breakfast".    She placed the bible neatly on the night stand pulled herself out of bed and downstairs to the kitchen table.

"What is wrong with you today?" her mom said.  "I don't know.  I woke up feeling sad.  I don't know why.  I just do", Mary said.   Mom gave her a hug and placed her breakfast on the table.  It was fried eggs and toast.  Her mom made them a little runny so Mary could dip her toast in them.  Mary quickly devoured her breakfast and headed upstairs to brush her teeth and her long red hair.  "Do you want an elastic in your hair this morning?"  Mom asked.  "Two", Mary said trying again to smile and this time partially succeeding.  She gave her mom a hug then rushed down the stairs and out the door to school.

TO DO: on the street the fresh air made her feel happier until she reached the church.  At this point the great sadness returns and she sits on the step and cries.

Mary looked down the street and spotted the purple haze as it moved rapidly towards her. It was her friend Violet in her signature purple bench pants and jogging jacket. Mary motioned to Violet and she stopped. Violet turned to Mary and said, "You have been crying, is everything okay?" Mary hugged Violet, they held hands and headed toward school.

Priest Paul sat for a moment more to pray for Mary. He continued to pray for revelation into the sorrow Mary and he shared. Priest Paul looked up at the Neon Oracle for guidance but there was no bovine intervention to be received. Disappointed again, he stood up and continued his daily routine.

Yonge/Dundas Square was the usual hustle and bustle. Priest Paul quickly navigated the crowd and crossed to the North West corner. Once across, he could feel the crowd busing him towards the road. He turned to prepare to avoid the cars now entering the intersection. As his foot hit the curb a hand reached out to pull him back. This was immediately followed by a loud "AMEN". The priest looked down at his left hand to find a tract slipped in his hand. Starteled the priest rotated to try and get a feel for his position. A familiar man stood on the corner, bible in hand. The man leaned forward in a trance as Priest Paul stood eyes glued to him. "Fate", the man yelled as he broke his trance. "Fate?" the Priest asked. The man ignored him and entered another trance. "Destiny", the man said breaking the trance again. Priest Paul grabbed his hand. "You must tell me", he said. The man fell to the ground shaking. The crowd stared accusingly at the Priest so he crossed with the light and was gone.