Lina's Breakfast

I'm back from college for a few weeks now, and hoping to work on rewriting my novel. I should be posing more often for a little while.

This is a short story I wrote from a crazy prompt my professor gave me this semester. Enjoy!

Lina’s Breakfast

The dog jumped on her bed, startling her awake. “Get off!” Lina grumbled.

He responded with a whimper.

“Rick, get Piglet off me,” she growled, pushing back at the creature who was trying to shove his oversized body against her. Suddenly she slipped off the side of the bed as the Dane continued to push. She landed with a thump. “Richard!” She scrambled up and glared at the other side of the bed, which was conveniently empty.

She scowled, wondering where he went. After last night he should’ve at least had the decency to keep the dog away so she could sleep it.

Piglet stuffed his wet nose into her hand, whining with worry.

“What?” she snapped at the big black and white dog. “What’s your problem?”

He pressed closer against her, staring up at her with his baby-blue eyes.

Pushing him off the bed, she started to climb back into its warmth, muttering about the skittish Great Dane. She paused as she caught a whiff of bacon and coffee.

Her stomach growled. Was Rick making her breakfast? Frowning she grabbed a jacket and ran her fingers through her hair as she headed down the stairs. Piglet sulked behind her, sticking close with his tail tucked. She snorted at the pathetic dog.

“Rick, making me breakfast won’t be enough to make up for yesterday...” She froze in the doorway with her jacket half-zipped. Her heart began to race as she tried to comprehend what she was staring at.

A big red nose with oversized blue polka-dot shoes and a rainbow afro of insultingly bright hair stood in her kitchen, his painted expression beaming at her. He gripped a pan of bacon in one hand and a spatula in the other. “Good morning!”

A scream ripped from her throat as she leaped forward, snatching the ceramic vase on the table. “Get out!” she screeched, hurling it at the clown. It missed by a couple of inches and smashed against the refrigerator with a splintering crash.

He ducked behind the skillet, stumbling backwards over his colossal shoes and yelled as sizzling bacon grease streamed down his hand. “It’s not what you think!”

“Get out!” She grabbed the coffee pot and doused the bumbling intruder with the scalding black liquid.

“Yow! Mrs. Roberts, please! Rick let me in!”

She paused in the act of grabbing for another makeshift weapon. “What?”

He backed up a few steps, holding his gloved hands up in surrender and gulped. “Richard paid me.”

Crossing her arms, Lina gave the man in his sopping, bizarre get-up the fiercest glare she could muster. “For what?”

“To make you breakfast. That’s all.”

She scowled deeper at the man with ridiculous runny make-up in elementary school colors.

“I swear it!”

Stumbling forward a step as Piglet shoved his oversized nose into her leg, she dug her fingernails into her palms. “Get out. Now,” Lina growled.

The clown bobbed his head up and down and quickly waddled out the back door, his mop of hair mangled and dripping.

            As the door slammed shut behind him, Lina drew a shaky breath as she stared down at her trembling hands. Her heart still pounded as she reached down and patted the dog. “He’s not gonna get you, don’t worry, Piglet.”

            The dog peered up at her, tentatively wagged his tail, then trotted forward to sniff at the mess. Ceramic pieces sprinkled across the floor lying in the pool of coffee and splattered bacon grease. She shook her head. “That man...”

Stepping over the mess, she picked up the phone and dialed her husband’s number. He didn’t answer, which didn’t surprise her after what he’d pulled, but it was too early for him to have left for work yet. “Richard Roberts, if you don’t get home, clean up this mess and make me some coffee by the time I’m out of the shower, you’ll be sleeping in the garage till February.” After leaving the message she put the dog outside and made sure all the doors were locked before heading upstairs.

Lina squeezed her wet hair again with the damp towel then pulled it up into a ponytail and headed downstairs to check the situation.

The radio played the morning news and Piglet bounded over, greeting her with a woof, his rope-like tail wagging back and forth. She ruffled his black ears and peaked around the corner, not taking another chance at being surprised. Rick’s back was to her as he pushed the mop over her much cleaner wooden floor. On the table he’d arranged a bouquet of roses in a new vase, a plate with waffles and bacon, and her favorite mug filled with coffee.

Taking the mug, she swallowed some of the fresh coffee as Rick turned around. A large grin spread across his face, then faded under her frown. “Good morning, dear.”

She narrowed her eyes up at her juvenile husband and said nothing.

He walked over to her with repentant look in his gaze. “I had to prove to you that I was better than a clown.”

“Not by much,” she muttered.

Grinning, he pulled out the chair for her, “I know. Sorry for scaring you. But you really freaked Andy out.”

“Don’t care.” She took the seat. “He scared Piglet.”

“Everything scares Piglet.”

“I know.”

He sat in the chair next to her and gave her a remorseful look. “I’m sorry for standing you up on your birthday. I’m an idiot. I’ll never do it again.”

She averted her gaze into the mug and sighed with defeat. “You’d better not, or next time I’ll dump the coffee on you.”

“Yes, dear.”

He always got her with those big brown eyes.

In Wonder of the Unknown

For hundreds of years the expanse above us, and what lies beyond, has captured human imaginations. We dreamed of flying, soaring through the clouds with the birds. Then we mastered flight, and the sense of wonder extended to the depths of space. A realm of nearly endless possibility to the humans mind that creates awe and inspiration in us. As far back as Babylon, we have account of humans trying to reach the sky. Now that we have, we’ve set our minds on the vastness of space.

Science fiction has grown from this dream. A dream to explore the unknown. A dream of abilities and things that are impossible in our reality. It’s much like a blank canvas for the imagination. Using what facts we have, a writer tries to conjure the possibilities of the future and different settings, or what things would be like on a different world without the same laws of nature.

 God is the original artist. He imagined our world, every intricate detail, and called it into existence. You don’t have to spend much time looking at our world to see its beautiful and elaborate features. Our Father then bestowed upon us a similar version of this ability. We can imagine and craft things with our own, a God-given talents.

That is what I love about sci-fi. It’s an expression of curiosity spurred by the wonder of God’s and man’s creativity. I love to imagine life on other worlds. The differences, the similarities. The good and the bad. And I think this stems from a hunger for the beauty of the redeemed creation. The perfect rightness that we lost in Eden. Science fiction stories show us that despite new environments and advances made by men, problems and evil are still there.

What we were meant for no longer exists in this world. In the depths of each of our beings, we’re not satisfied. We know there’s something better, we know we’re meant for more than this world. So we turn to other, fictional worlds to try and fill that hunger. But, in the future, when our LORD returns the wonder, awe and power will be amplified, while the evil and pain are washed away. That’s why I write science fiction. It’s a glimpse of the endless possibilities of eternity and a reminder of the fallen state of man.

“The heavens declare the glory of God, the skies proclaim the work of his hands.” Psalm 19:1

By God's mercy and grace,
Ericka

This Life: An OYAN Workshop Post

Last week, at the OYAN summer workshop, I got a 'Taste of Heaven' as one of my friends put it (Tiny Taste of Heaven). A God-centered, accepting community where I was taught and encouraged. Talking to others, and reading various posts of thoughts on it, the general consensus of those who attended seems to be that God's presences was strongly felt, along with a solid connection to other young, Christian writers. Now that we're back to the trials and somewhat dullness of day-to-day life, most of our reactions is to mourn.

I agree completely with the sentiment, but in the car today I heard a song I know--called This Life by Mercy Me--that reminded me of a different way of looking at things. We're commissioned to shine for Jesus in this world. The Holy Spirit equips us to do this. Also, our brothers and sisters in Christ should build us up, partner with us, and keep us accountable to God's word.

At the workshop, I think many of us got a strong taste of the beauty of a God-centered community and a pale idea of what eternity holds. It leaves us longing for more. But we have a job to do. As the song puts it:

"I don't have to stall 

I don't have to wait 

Don't have to bide my time 

Till I make my escape 

Cuz heaven's in my heart 

I won't settle for less 

I will lift Your name 

By the life I live 

Every moment is a chance to 

Let Your light break through"

 Let the experiences, the friendships and God's presence from last week encourage and empower you to jump headfirst into your everyday life and shine. This isn't easy. And Satan will do everything he can to stop you from doing that. Because a whole-hearted and passionate follower of Christ is a powerful thing.

So, take heart, stand strong and stand together, even if we're apart. We can change the world for our Lord, but we'll do so much more when we're spread across it, then congregated together. One day after the Lord's coming, we'll have a perpetual workshop where we can lavish in each other's company without any detraction. It will be thousands of times better than last week, or the previous workshop. But you have a piece of heaven in your heart now, let it fill you up and spill out into our world.

By God's grace,
Ericka

Shock

I just found out! I'm a published author!

Since...April 7th.

Wow. How'd that happen you wonder? Well, it's rather strange. On a whim--every now and then I get them...I think they're a God-thing; when I listen to them, crazy, but good, things happen--I submitted one of my poems to a young Christian writer's magazine that some of my friends started and I subscribe to. Though I mostly fail at reading it... I just save it to my computer. Fail...

Anyways, so I sent it to them, and told my friend that if it was published, I wanted to know. Mostly so I would actually be aware of the fact since I'm so far behind in reading them...

Today, I was asked to sign a couple of copies of the magazine issue with my poem in it. I went: WHAT?! I didn't know it was in there!  Yeah... I'm still kind of in shock.


Anyways, despite the mix up--you know who you are---I will recommend Kingdom Pen (kingdompen.org) as a great read for anyone who wants to write. It's free and put together by author's my age (and I'm published in it).

Now, I leave to try and make sense of this newness.

~Ericka

A Month of Writing

I've been working on my novel lately. Total shocker, right? It's working title is Assassin. I absolutely love it, and writing, but I have a problem. I'm not even half-way through the rough draft yet, and the OYAN Summer Workshop (a writing workshop for anyone who doesn't know) is a month away. I've set a goal to finish the story by then. It'll be the most I've ever written in that sort of time frame and I'll honestly be pretty shocked if I do it. But I'm going to try, and I will appreciate any encouragement, pestering, or the like to help me get through it.