Power of Story Send a Tweet        
- Advertisement -
OpEdNews Op Eds

Encounters With Miracles. An Inoculation From Malice

By       Message Mark Sashine       (Page 1 of 2 pages)     Permalink

Related Topic(s): ; ; , Add Tags  Add to My Group(s)

Well Said 3   Touching 3   Must Read 2  
View Ratings | Rate It

opednews.com Headlined to H2 4/29/12

Author 451
Become a Fan
  (60 fans)
- Advertisement -


All of this really happened.


- Advertisement -


It really pissed me off when they destroyed   my   third sand castle. How would you feel if you were 11 years old and     those teenagers would have destroyed   your work?   When they did it   for   the first time I let it slide. That castle was no good anyway. The second time they ran over my castle I got mad but for a short time: I just came   to the idea of the third one, even better. And now they trampled on my   crown   jewel, my    best creation, the one I wanted to show to my dad?   No way I could leave that   without   punishment. They were to pay. Of course, they were big, mean boys and I was just a nerdy, overweight kid.   The beach was full of people and   castles; nobody gave a damn about   my problem. I was on my own.


- Advertisement -

It was a gorgeous day, sunny,   but not   humid. Everyone was having   fun; a group of people were playing basketball   right close to me. The teenagers who destroyed my castle scattered around the players; there was a happy commotion and they all      dumped   into the   river   together. I looked at them and    the   desire for revenge filled my heart. Or at least I imagined that.


To   complete my   project I moved away from the   water, closer to the shady woody area. There I   worked   for a while preparing a lot of moist   sand, moving away all the dry sand and gathering   the necessary materiel. Then I dug a huge   pit   in the middle of the lot and   put a lot of harmful stuff   on the   bottom:   sharp stones, sticks, nails and pieces of glass. Then I covered the pit with   a thick layer of branches. And after that I    very carefully erected a magnificent castle   on   those branches- all made of   dripping wet sand. It was a temptation of rare desire; there were gothic towers and even arches- all inviting the mischievous   teenagers   to   jump on them like they did with my previous   ones. Only this time" this time they were up for a surprise.

I worked for a while, even forgot about food. Nobody bothered me; my parents were still at the beach, they could see me from there, so they were not worried. I   could   complete everything   up to the standard. When the castle was finished I   gave it a satisfied look and   moved away from it to arrange for a convenient position   to watch from afar. There   I   quietly sat, waiting.


Nothing happened for a while. Teenagers were still busy at the beach. Adults   passed by, one even made a photo of the castle. I waited patiently. I figured it could take   maybe   an hour   for the brats to come up. That's when I saw him: the toddler.

- Advertisement -

He was a real gem.   A boy of about    4, neatly dressed with that adorable panama hat, one of those with red spots all around. He   was   barefoot   and those two feet were making     deliberate   steps as if a   big multicolored mushroom was moving promptly and   steadfastly   towards my deadly contraption. I felt nauseated.

At first I tried to distract him. But you know those toddlers; when they   have   a goal in mind nothing can   stop them. The kid continued to advance, visibly curious and maybe even impressed by the beauty of my castle because he was all smiles, although   not saying anything. He sort of brushed aside   all my efforts to   redirect him.    A distance of several feet remained between him and   the trap. I could, of course, scare him away but I was sure the kid would then start   crying   and screaming, the people would    all rush to the scene, discover my   work and that would mean   very   unfortunate consequences. So I decided instead to destroy the   castle   myself if the kid comes too close; I was not that bad a boy to   harm a toddler.


Next Page  1  |  2


- Advertisement -

Well Said 3   Touching 3   Must Read 2  
View Ratings | Rate It


The writer is 57 years old, semi- retired engineer, PhD, PE, CEM. I write fiction on a regular basis and I am also 10 years on OEN.

Share on Google Plus Submit to Twitter Add this Page to Facebook! Share on LinkedIn Pin It! Add this Page to Fark! Submit to Reddit Submit to Stumble Upon Share Author on Social Media   Go To Commenting

The views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of this website or its editors.

Writers Guidelines

Contact EditorContact Editor Author PageView Authors' Articles
Related Topic(s): ; ; , Add Tags
- Advertisement -

Most Popular Articles by this Author:     (View All Most Popular Articles by this Author)

Human Coprophagia


Y2012- The Year Of A Coward

They Think Of Us As Slaves ( small note with big conclusion)

The School. Reading 'To Kill a Mockingbird' in Russia

Glory and Malice