Friday, November 16, 2007

Blast from the Past...THE PROWLER

OK...this weekend's Blast from the Past is a piece I wrote for the FaithWriters Challenge titled, The Powler. It placed 1st in the Masters level and 2nd overall. Just a reminder to stay alert - it's not a matter of whether or not there IS a prowler, but when he will strike.


The Prowler was ravenous. His stomach growled and he smacked his lips; it was time for dinner.

He fought the urge to roar as he crept silently from one place to the next, in search of one he could devour. He couldn't take just any one. He had to select his prey carefully. He had to seek them out - to hunt them down. He passed by the strong. He didn't have time to battle them. He also had no interest in the smart ones, who knew exactly what weapons to use to fight him off. He avoided the brave ones who boldly stood up to him, no fear in their eyes. He had no use for them either.

The Prowler was after the ignorant ones who didn't know better. He loved those who had never heard of him, or, even better, underrated his strength...his power. He thrived on those that were afraid of him and tried to avoid him altogether, pretending he didn't exist at all. Stupid, silly people! The Prowler smirked. He loved stupidity. Stupidity resulted in weakness. And the weaker they were, the easier they were to devour.

There were plenty for the taking. He just had to bide his time...

The Prowler peered into the first house - A FAMILY PRAYING TOGETHER! Rage swelled up in him and he closed his eyes to the sight. He moved on.

At the second house, The Prowler paused for a moment to observe a little girl stepping on her tiptoes to reach a puzzle from the top shelf of the closet. He saw the father busy at the kitchen table, papers strewn around, talking on the phone. His eyebrows were knit together and the look on his face screamed, "stress!" The prowler settled back with a wicked grin and watched as the little girl tapped the father on the shoulder and pointed to the puzzle.

The Prowler was on the edge of his seat with anticipation. He waited for the father to dismiss the girl and crush her heart. The Prowler licked his lips again and prepared to pounce.

But wait - what was the father doing? SMILING? The stress actually vanished from the father's face as he swept the girl up into his lap. The father shoved the papers aside and placed the puzzle on the table, much to the little girl's delight. Disgusted, the prowler couldn't take anymore and quickly looked away.

At the third house, The Prowler struck paydirt! The house was impeccably clean. Floors shined, windows much so that the prowler was turned off by the beauty of it. Alone in her room, a young girl laid on her bed staring up at the ceiling. Death lyrics blared from her high tech stereo. The prowler smiled... The girl was playing his song.

A couple rooms over, a boy sat in front of his computer, mesmerized by naked women dancing across the screen. The Prowler clasped his hands and laughed. Could it get any better?

In another room, the prowler saw the mother, staring at a large screen television, absorbed in a program. A glass of wine was in her hand and she sipped it lovingly. A vial of pills was on the end table next to her chair. The Prowler squinted to read the label. Ahhh. Sleeping pills. "Take them," The Prowler whispered. "Escape life, even if just for a while."

The Prowler scanned the house and saw the father in his office, sitting at his rich cherry wood desk, cell phone propped between his ear and shoulder. A laptop computer was open, his fingers flying over the keypad, completely engrossed in his work. "Keep working, my friend...keep on working."

The Prowler reviewed the scenario. Despite the beautiful house, the ugliness of the home couldn't have been more evident. He salivated, unable to stop himself, already tasting his dinner.

All the pieces were in place. This home was teetering on the brink of total destruction! It would make the perfect meal.

The Prowler crept closer and moved in for the kill.

"Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour." I Peter 5:8 (NIV)

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