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The Second Coming (part 1) (standard:science fiction, 4504 words)
Author: SpotlightAdded: Mar 13 2002Views/Reads: 2670/1829Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The story of Dick and his encounter with Jesus in Baltimore. (for those uninterested by that simple description, there's aliens, blood, and drunk people... thank you) [a 3-part narrative]
 



The Second Coming:  Part 1 

by Spotlight 

"The problem with Christians I have, is they're so crazy into beliefs,
you can't argue with 'em.  They spout scriptures they haven't read from 
a book almost two millenniums old, and they never wanna be rational!"  
Dick was examining the room while speaking, music playing whiny country 
softly in the background.  Stale cigar smoke drifted between empty 
seats, the small, dark-brown room illuminated by lights above the bar, 
a few shadows in pairs finishing their drinks before closing time.  
"All major religions are fucking ho-orse shit!" 

"Hey, you know...  a time will come when some scientist out there can't
explain something, and you'll be there needing guidance and answers."  
To the left was Jerem, swiveling his barstool. 

"Yeah, and Christians can argue.  We just don't need some scientist to
shove 'reality' in our faces everyday.  Faith is what you hate, you 
know that?  I got bills, and bills, and I don't need some high-ass man, 
come to tell me 'bout the mathe-ma...  math science, of paper money.  I 
got bills.  I got no money.  And I don't need to know 'bout atoms, to 
figure out the government takes my money.  I got faith in that, man!"  
To the right, barely on his stool sat Tom, sipping a last sip of a 
Budweiser.  His black "Got Milk?" t-shirt was faded and stained with 
nacho cheese. 

Dick Evans stood in anger, turning to them, "Faith?  Faith isn't
government takin' money, you drunk ass!  Faith is somethin' someone 
makes up so you're all happy happy.  That's why you can't argue, they 
go, 'but Fa-aith!'  Is it just me, or do some of us need proof?  
Scientific evidence.  Gravity.  Oxygen.  Actually walking on the moon 
(I mean, that alone kills bunches of religions).  I have "faith" in 
those!  And everything will kill religion.  There is no god.  We'll 
prove it!  I can't believe anyone believes this horse shit!" 

"Shh...  man, too late for my ears!"  Jerem was standing, pushing some
money to the bartender, slipping his arms into his bright blue and red 
and yellow winter ski coat.  "Come on, time for bed.  Got church 
tomorrow." 

Tom motioned them by, "Not goin' meself.  Golfing at two." 

Dick, for the moment, mumbled a goodbye, stewing, stomping.  Tom happily
rhymed, "Bubbye lil' Dick.  Bye and see youuuuuuu!" 

Three in the morning streets were yellow with lamplight, white with
streaks of fluorescent light, wet with black rain.  Dick trod through 
puddles, his leather trench coat open, while Jerem followed at his 
side, taking deep breaths through his nostrils.  The sky above was 
clouded, stars and moon blotted from view completely as wisps of fog 
grew grainy in the distance. 

Finally, Dick began to calm, "Sorry back there.  I just get so
frustrated!  Maybe I'm a few over my limit." 

"Maybe you just like religion bashing?"  Jerem lifted an eyebrow with
his voice, turning his head; a look implying, "not the first time 
you've done this." 

"It must be the sci-fi.  Love the stuff.  Half those authors are
atheists, or existanceialisded.  Scientologists." 

"Faith ain't such a bad thing." 

"Comin' from a true Christian mundane.  Not that you're a complete
moron, but you got it backwards.  Make it real first, then have some 
faith.  I have faith in gravity.  I'm standing, not flying."  He 
stopped mid-step, stamping his foot, then continued on. 

"Whoa, that's a whole bunch of faith there!" 

"Exactly, and you add it all up, I've got enough 'real faith' to worry
about, then to tack on all this faith in superstuff shit.  I have faith 
that my heart won't just stop in my chest a second from now.  I have 


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