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Dave the Prophet (standard:Psychological fiction, 2331 words)
Author: echoesmyronAdded: Jan 07 2005Views/Reads: 3431/2284Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Recieving an email from God, Dave becomes an unlikely messenger.The story is narrated by Jack (a dog).
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

"The bastards keep comin'," she cackled as we were walking away. 

"Strange," I thought to myself as we were leaving. 

Dave and I continued our journey towards the convenience store to warn
our fellow man of impending doom. Dave threw open the door of the 
establishment and continued with his apocalyptic rants, shouting to the 
customers news of the end times. 

"The end of the world is about two hours away!" 

Dave's loud ranting was answered by a single response from the clerk.
The clerk uttered a phrase that I shall never forget; booming back in a 
low bass were the words, "Shut the door you assbag!" 

Glancing up at Dave I could see that the wind had been taken out of his
sails. He was a broken man. So he just went in to get a pack of 
cigarettes and a Pepsi instead of saving the souls of all mankind. 

Upon returning from the store Dave said, "Screw this Jack, let's go back
to bed." So home is where we headed. 

Dave and I woke up at the same time. We always seemed to fall asleep and
wake up at the same time. We were synchronized. 

Dave rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and propped his flabby frame up on
one elbow. He glanced over at the alarm clock; it was around two in the 
afternoon. 

"We're still here Jack." I must say that I shared Dave's bewilderment.
We were supposed to be toast by now. 

Dave got up and walked over to the computer, turned it on and plopped
down in his chair. 

"You have mail." 

Dave clicked to read the message, and I stood attentively beside him to
view the screen. 

"It was a test Dave, you have failed. You must spread my word. Begin
immediately." The email seemed imposing. 

"Why me?" Dave muttered. 

"Son of a bitch", I barked (although not understandable to humans). 

Dave began to cry. He could be brought to tears easily. He cried when
girls dumped him, at sad songs, even some television commercials. Hell, 
he even cried once when we passed some unrecognizable road kill. He was 
a very sensitive guy. I walked over and rested my chin on his knee. 

I have been known to be quite a gassy beast when I get upset. I know
that this is no excuse for unnecessary flatulence, but my stomach has a 
mind of its own. I apologize for the details, but I feel an obligation 
to leave no fact untold. 

Before I could realize where it was coming from, a sound escaped from my
body unlike any that I have ever been associated with. An ungodly 
reverberation that sounded like denim being torn apart echoed off of 
the walls. Dave cowered as if he had been shot at. 

"Excuse me," I barked in embarrassment. 

Then the smell descended upon us. The scent (if you could classify it as
that) was a mix between hard-boiled eggs, and rotting cabbage. It was 
an aroma that one would imagine could be found in a swamp. I gagged 
(and maybe threw up a little), as Dave gasped for air as if he had been 
exposed to noxious chemicals. 

"Holy shit Jack, that could gag a maggot", Dave scolded. 

Even though my digestive malfunction had been criminal, Dave began to
giggle like a little boy. A gigantic snot bubble began to take up 
residence in his left nostril. I would usually be disgusted by his 
juvenile behavior, but considering the circumstances I was happy that 
he was smiling again. 

I needed to concentrate on the task that faced us. I felt the urge to go
to my thinking place. My best ideas were usually created while watering 
my favorite pine. Dave glanced down at me and realized my need before I 
had the chance to vocalize it. Without hesitation he unlocked the doggy 
door. I trotted outside and took my regular spot at the base of the 
tree. Where would we begin in our ministry? I must say that for once in 
my life, I could not formulate an answer. 

When I came back in from my "alone time", as I like to call it, Dave was
already busy getting dressed. He moved swiftly as if time was of the 
essence. 

"Jack something tells me that we should go down to the bus station
first." 

Apparently while I was peeing, Dave had experienced an epiphany. I could
offer no grounds to produce an argument. This business of dealing with 
God had caught me quite off guard if the truth be told. My mind simply 
had not been given the appropriate amount of time to fully process all 
of this information. Dave's choices for the places that we should visit 
were overshadowed by the magnitude of our responsibility. 

We arrived at the bus station, and upon entering we were informed that
pets were not allowed inside. Just when I thought that my species had 
come so far, I am reminded of the small mindedness of the human race. 
My thoughts on equality are neither here nor there in this amazing 
tale, so we decided to stand in front of the building without protest. 

Dave eyed the passersby as if he were a predator stalking his prey. I
was mildly alarmed at the intensity of his gaze on the people that 
walked by. He seemed to be searching for something in the faces of the 
crowd. I tugged at his pant leg to break his concentration. 

That's when we saw her. She was a huge black woman who had to be at
least three hundred pounds if she was an ounce. She was wearing a brown 
dress that appeared to be big enough to fit another average sized 
person under. Her black bedroom slippers made a scuffing sound as she 
drug her behemoth feet along the sidewalk. She was shouting about how 
cheap shampoo made her head itch to no none in particular. I was a bit 
afraid of this gigantic, apparently crazy woman approaching us. 

Dave waited until she was almost upon us when he stepped in front of her
and inquired, "Do you know Jesus?" 

"Yeah he's my brother, what's he done now?" She replied not the least
bit surprised by his question. 

"What do you mean he's your brother?" Dave asked. 

"I mean that no good Jesus is my little brother. What's it to you?" 

"Can you take us to him, umm.." 

"Mavis, my name is Mavis, yeah I can take you to him, he owe you money?"


"No, we just need to see him, is that possible?" 

"Yeah that's possible I guess." Mavis responded. 

I thought for sure that this giant woman would surely lure us down a
dark alley and try to eat us. I barked my disapproval to Dave. He just 
ignored me and began to follow Mavis down the street. I reluctantly 
followed my idiot master. 

"You know that Jesus is a little slow don't you?" Mavis informed us. 

"I didn't realize that, what's wrong with him?" Dave inquired. 

"I think that he's retarded or somethin'", she answered. "He just keeps
on bablin' nonsense." 

Now I had heard it all. We were going to see a mentally challenged man
who happened to be named Jesus. I thought that Dave had finally lost 
his mind. We continued down the street behind Mavis. 

After walking about four blocks, we entered a rundown apartment building
and went to the second door on the right. A large man answered the 
door. He had jailhouse tattoos covering both of his muscled forearms. 
His head was clean-shaven and gave him a foreboding look. His eyes 
looked like those of a shark. They were pitch black and lifeless. 

Jesus never greeted us as we followed Mavis into the tiny apartment. He
just rambled incoherently and guided us to his living room. He sat down 
on his sofa and motioned to another one across from where he was 
seated. Dave sat down and motioned for me to sit down by his feet. I 
did as he wished. Mavis went into the kitchen and began ransacking the 
refrigerator. 

Dave stared intently at Jesus, and Jesus returned his glare. After what
seemed like an eternity, Jesus spoke. 

"I know why you are here Dave. God has sent you to spread his word. I
have some advice for you to help in your calling. You have no choice in 
this matter; you are a prophet. He has chosen you to witness to the 
people Dave. Do your best and understand, you cannot teach a murderer 
that it is wrong to kill. You cannot teach a thief that is wrong to 
steal. You cannot force those who hate to love, but let he who has 
ears, hear." 

I looked up at Dave. He was awestruck. Dave had a look of complete
understanding, and a new serenity about him. He got up out of his seat 
and motioned for me to follow. We left without a single word to Jesus 
or Mavis (who was eating everything that wasn't anchored down in the 
kitchen). 

Dave was silent as we made our way back home. This day was the beginning
of our new job. We would start to go out to different places each new 
day and Dave would talk to various people about love and kindness. He 
was a horrible prophet, but he tried with all of his being to fulfill 
God's wishes. I guess that we are doing a good job though; we haven't 
received any more emails. 

1 


   


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