Come Here, Satan:

By maidahl · Jun 12, 2012 · ·
  1. What do you think? I'm too new to post this on a thread, so.. Mark this $#%& UP! Please and thanks.

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    “Come here, Satan,” I cooed to my terrier.

    Satan trotted over to my outstretched hand and I gave him a kiss on the nose. He licked my fingers and growled, pawing the leash I carried until I tied it around his neck.

    I walked him around the block and up the street by the chapel. Satan’s brown and white spots blended in with the hedges and fences of a similar nuance of brown. The arc-angel Michael’s pious glory hung over us in the stained window paintings. Inside, the congregation bowed their heads in communion.

    Satan glowered at a nearby adolescent skating by with Mother Mary beads and silver cross- chain around his neck.
    “Come on, Satan,” I muttered as the boy passed us. He stared at me, eyes wide.

    By the local community college, Satan freed himself of my grasp and lunged on top of the Mirror Pools and waded in the water. It was about two feet deep. He swam and shook his head, spraying drops of cold water on the students. They shrieked and ran for cover.

    Satan bounded to a group of boys playing Frisbee in the nearby fields.
    “Satan!” I yelled. It really was the only name my damned dog had ever answered to. I presumed it was because my mother had obsessive-compulsive tendencies when she prayed, and cursed the devil loudly. My dog had the habit of snuggling in her lap as she shouted fervently,” Satan! Satan! I cast thee away. The Spirit of the Lord compels thee! Satan! The Spirit of the Lord compels thee!”

    Meanwhile, the boys were happily letting him join them. He jumped in the air whenever one of them made a pass. I ran after my dog. “Satan! Come back! Satan!”

    “That is blasphemous!” said a woman seated at the head of a nearby circle.
    “Why?” I asked her.
    “Your dog is not the devil, young man.”
    “I know that,” I said.
    “Is the devil inside your dog?” asked a girl in the group. “We’re from the Christian Club. We can save him.”
    “Way to go, Satan!” cheered the boys playing Frisbee. My dog had made a great catch and still held the Frisbee with his teeth.
    “Nice one, Satan!” someone else yelled, falling to the grass in laughter.

    The Christian woman frowned as I returned Satan to the leash. He growled at her and bared his fangs playfully. She screamed, quaking in terror. “The devil is alive!” she whispered feverishly.

Comments

  1. bmillard
    The only critique I can have on your writing style is your use of adverbs but it may just be how I've conditioned myself after reading so many writing books. But it did feel awkward in the last paragraph 'bared his fangs playfully' and 'whispered feverishly. With the story the only parts that made me wonder was the ending (it kinda felt rushed--or out of context from the rest of the story) and the part about his mother's prayer was kind of strange (why does Satan dominate her prayers? she says Satan where most would say God). Those were the only parts I was a little confused over. It's evident that you know how to write a captivating story. This was an awesome read and makes me want to hear all kinds of tales about Satan splashing kids and growling at passersby. You've got a lot of talent. Awesome job with this story and I hope to see more soon.
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