The Looking Glass

Hiya! This is my entry for the FIRST EVER Christian flash fiction competition over at Charles W. Short's Christian Flash Weekly! The prompt each week is a single verse from the Bible and the judge and word count will change weekly. This week I was allowed 240-260 words (I came in at 255 this week!) with the verse: Job 42:5

Job 42:1-6 (NASB)
Then Job answered the Lord and said,

² “I know that You can do all things,
And that no purpose of Yours can be thwarted.
³ ‘Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’
Therefore I have declared that which I did not understand,
Things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.”
⁴ ‘Hear, now, and I will speak;
I will ask You, and You instruct me.’⁵ “I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear;
But now my eye sees You;
⁶ Therefore I retract,
And I repent in dust and ashes.”

I did something completely different than my normal stories. I think it worked. Also, I'm glad we had almost four days - I only got the idea last night! I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you have fun reading it! Thanks! :)

The Looking Glass

 

I received it when I was young and was admonished to take good care of it. I polished it daily until it shined. I’d check myself, smile, and blow a kiss.

Over time it didn’t shine as before. Dust obscured the view, but I regularly cleaned it once a week. I’d check myself, smile, and nod.

Soon I forgot about it for weeks at a time – not on purpose, but other things came up. It became smeared with the stuff of life and crusted with unidentifiable sludge. Every now and again I’d remember, spray it down, and scrub it clean. I’d check myself, smile, and sigh.

The first crack appeared when I volunteered to go build wells in Africa. I was so excited. And so scared. The preparation – spiritual, emotional, practical – took its toll.  I’d check myself, worry at the crack, and put on a brave face.

The crack crept across the surface as I landed in Africa. So much suffering. More cracks. The sick. The poor. The hungry. Why? I slammed my fist in anger. A spider web of cracks blossomed and filled the frame. I checked myself and frowned.

The glass shattered. Pieces littered the ground. I stared in shock at the shards twinkling in the sunlight. A weight lifted from my shoulders. I checked myself and froze. A little boy stood smiling, beaming back at me – deep black skin, bright white teeth centered perfectly in my now empty frame.

I knelt, and served.

And smiled.

And blew a kiss.