Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: ZEST (10/01/15)
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TITLE: Limes and Paper Cuts | Previous Challenge Entry
By
10/08/15 -
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I frequented the place so often I was on first name terms with the staff, despite daily reminders of how it had gained its reputation for being a dive. I knew I was spending far too much time there, but the place struck a chord with me. Perhaps it was the tatty seats and the walls cluttered with photos and memorabilia – memories of a once vibrant, happy establishment that had lost its way. Yep, that sounded familiar.
Through the muted blue haze, I tried to follow the people on the dance floor. Some were dancing with friends, some with their lover, some on their own. In my youth, I would’ve been up there busting moves with the best of them. But back then, I had no desire to dance.
I don't know when exactly I lost my zest for life. Or how. I guess it was one of those things that just crept up little by little. Twenty years before, I had been the kid described by the leaders at the church youth group as happy-go-lucky, without a care in the world. I had a vibrant faith and was always the life and soul of the party. That was before life became a constant struggle to balance marriage, kids and a career, each simultaneously a source of joy and of frustration. No matter what I did, I could never give each the time and attention it deserved. There were never enough hours in the day. Little by little, life greyed into a monotony of just trying to survive one day at a time. Then, one day, I realised I no longer knew the person who I’d woken up next to every day for the past fifteen years. Or the face staring back at me in the mirror. And as for God? As more and more things piled on my plate, time with Him fell by the wayside. Looking back, that was when my journey from joyful, vibrant kid to burnt-out shell began.
Some bloke swaggered past me, his cigarette smoke wafting right into my face. It made my eyes sting something awful. I fumbled through my pockets, hoping to find a tissue. But instead, all I found was enough coins for cab home and the sharp edge of a business card, which sliced straight through the tip of my finger.
Pressing on the paper cut as I moved toward the bar alleviated some of the soreness. I no longer cared what I did. All I wanted was to escape my sorrows – if only for a few moments. I went through the motions of the oft-rehearsed drill: lick the salt, down the tequila shot, bite the lime. But I forgot about the paper cut as I grabbed the slice of lime…
The searing pain of lime juice in a paper cut is enough to get anyone’s attention, as was the bitter taste of lime peel, which was almost as bitter as the regrets welling up inside.
Why am I doing this? How did I lose the joy I once had? My life is nothing but an empty mess…
Despite my thrumming head, I vaguely recalled someone handing me that card a few days beforehand as I passed the church near the pub. I didn’t know who they were or why me. I don't think I even bothered to look at them.
I pulled it out. “Christian Counselling Service.” A little further down, it read, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”
Life to the full… what disappointment, pressure and frustration stole from me… can be restored?
I realised I wasn't going to rediscover my zest for life down the bottom of a shot glass. Card still in hand, I left the pub for the last time. Behind me, the smoke-hazed darkness; before me, the brightness of the streetlight and above, the moon. I checked the time; the late-night line was still open – just. I crossed the road to the phone box and made the call that changed my life.
Author’s note:
John 10:10 NIV
Fiction
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I loved your story. As someone who has been to the wild side, it's important we include the more wildly inclined in our writings too.
Many people travel the straight and narrow path and can't relate. The rest of us need more of your writing. Great job.
M.C.Syben
All the best. :)
God bless~