While raking leaves Bill thought back to the farm his parents had with asparagus, pickles, pumpkins, corn, hay and soybeans. The chores back then were not so bad. He hoed corn from the beans and stacked baled hay. There was the busy time of harvesting, but harvesting had to be done.
The worst were those chickens. He’d reach his hand under a sitting hen to gather eggs only to have it pecked. Sometimes he’d shoo them off the nest. Sometimes they wouldn’t go.
He wouldn’t want some hen doing that to him, but he had to get those eggs.
“Yahweh gets things done. After the prophet poured oil on Jehu, proclaiming him king, he ran off. Jehu’s officers thought the prophet was an idiot until they heard the announcement: Yahweh anointed Jehu to drain the swamp. Jehu killed Jehoram and Ahaziah. At Jehu’s command eunuchs threw Jezebel from her window. While Jehu and his men got refreshments, dogs snacked on Jezebel.”
“That’s a gruesome story.”
“Jehu killed Ahab’s entire family and anyone he could get his hands on associated with Baal.”
“I see. Beware when Yahweh has His fill of you.”
Linked to Carrot Ranch’s September 24 Flash Fiction Challenge where Charli Mills offers the theme of snacking. You can read more about Jehu in 2 Kings chapters 9 and 10 where it is told in more detail and better than I have.
This is Yom Kippur. Although unrelated to the story, after listening to Jonathan Cahn’s Yom Kippur Broadcast, I put the finishing touches on the story:
The only high winds were Windy, the wolf, so Straw, the pig, built a house of straw. Brick overbuilt with bricks. Stick used what was lying around, sticks. Both annoyed Straw. “It’s not fair!” Straw complained to Windy. He wanted all three houses.
Windy went to Stick’s home and blew it down. Chomp! He ate Stick. Then he went to Brick’s home. Brick gave Straw a key. Straw lent it to Windy. Chomp!
When Windy returned Straw squealed, “Perfect!” Windy, mind-blown as ever, thought: yummy. Chomp! He (gasp!) ate Straw.
They call themselves the Lemon Queens, bitter as a lemon and twice as nasty. Don’t get me wrong. I love lemons. I even eat the rind. But those two with their cursing, spitting and hostility give lemons a bad name.
I have no intention of kneeling to these queens to pacify them. That’s just what they want. That’s just what they’re not going to get.
We arrested them last night. They hurled a trash can through a store window. Their lawyer insisted they were peaceful protesters. Then someone bailed them out. Now someone will have to arrest them again.
When twelve Brett told his aunt that chickens were dinosaurs. She laughed. What a stupid kid.
Brett’s mind was lava hot, hot enough to melt chaos into understanding. After reading that chickens were dinosaurs he looked at the hens in the chicken house who’d peck when he reached for the eggs they were sitting on differently.
True, they were smaller. True, they had feathers. True, they didn’t really run like Tyrannosaurus Rex.
When seventy another nugget of reality melted in his ever hot lava lamp of understanding. What if his old aunt was right? What if they weren’t dinosaurs?