Gog and Magog | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: Gog and Magog | Previous Challenge Entry
By Terry Atchison
07/22/14
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The morning begins with a faint chirping of birds outside my bedroom window. I roll over onto my back and see the big red numbers projected up on the bedroom ceiling: 04:47. Most people say that they “jump out of bed”. Well, I find that sitting up, then standing, works best for my sixty-four-year-old bones. By the way, I never “jump into the shower” either.

My green tea brews in the microwave while I sit at the kitchen table, praying. Amen. I grab my cup and walk down the hall to my office. Faint light, shining through the window, reveals the doorway. I hesitate, leaning against the door frame. The sip of green tea tastes divine. I thought I heard laughter! As I look towards my desk, I see my Montblanc Heritage pen next to my writing paper. Those two have been teasing me, mocking me, laughing at me for months.

We used to make a good trio. I would sit at my desk, look out over the lake and forest, and let my imagination roam wherever it wished. No reins, no guides, no limits! The paper felt like a part of my skin, while my trusty pen just felt like another extension of my body. We were a team.

Alas! Events in my life paused my writing for over a year. My two friends were neglected, but never forgotten. As the months went by, I could almost feel their resentment. Each time I entered the office or passed by, they would call out to me, calling me “loser” or “chicken”. That’s when I named them Gog and Magog. Of course they still had an advantage over me because their patience was unlimited.

Then it happened. Happiness entered my realm in the form of a beautiful Christian woman named Nancy. God and marriage changed my life (again). Life was wonderful, full of meaning. Of course God was always there, telling me to be patient, have faith, and trust Him to answer my prayers. And He did!

So, with a new outlook on life and a new spiritual boost, I find myself anew, sitting at my desk with Gog and Magog. Again, I sip my tea and survey the beautiful scenery through the office window. Gog and Magog are smiling, eagerly awaiting the touch of my fingers. Sighing, I contemplate all the stories and good times we shared. I reach out, pick up my pen, caress it with my fingertips, then press it onto the awaiting cool paper.

I write: “Gog and Magog. Today I am changing your names to Fred and Ethel.”

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