You can also hear me read this story on: Episode #34 of R.B. Wood’s “The Word Count” podcast.
The prompt for this podcast is “The Oracle smiled and said “Ah. I have been waiting for you…”
* * * *
He stood larger than life in a white robe, his long, dark hair and beard contrasted pale blue eyes. A thick leather strap around his neck supported his instrument of love. I made out the details of the ring on his finger as he quietly stroked his massive tool.
I licked my lips, my forehead beaded in perspiration. Jesus, I thought.
No … I mean really, he looked like Jesus with an otherworldly presence about him.
I could not take my eyes off him as he magically floated over a glass surface, which sealed off the ocean-like floor beneath it.
Impressive, probably the best entrance I’ve ever seen given its elaborate design. I had only witnessed one other entry that compared, one with spectacular use of illumination. Flashing colors that spun so quickly, they made me dizzy. I had to close my eyes the entire time so the light would not blind me.
Anyway, back to Jesus.
I swallowed my jitters and breathed heavily—in and out, in and out, in and out, willed myself to relax and get ready, shook with anticipation.
I heard women screaming. I even heard men screaming. Desperate and impatient bodies crashed against one another, exchanging sweat and possibly other bodily fluids. How would I know? I could barely turn my head to see beside me. What if a riot broke out and I was trampled to death? Who would find me? Who would feed my fish?
Then suddenly, from up above, Jesus looked at me and smiled, or perhaps he looked at the girl beside me. It didn’t matter. In my mind, it was me he spoke to.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said. I heard him loud and clear, and so did everyone else because all hell broke loose around me. The mob pushed me forward. I no longer cared about my safety or my fish. I jumped up and down with hands flailing in the air, my body squeezed on all sides by hysterical and devoted followers.
He launched into his hit song with an ear-splitting power chord. The notes reverberated off the stadium’s ceiling and fell upon the masses.
My Guitar God – he spoke to me, only me … me, me, me.
Rock on baby.
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