GOD’S CHAMPION

As God looks at my opponent and then gazes in my direction. “Mason, Roderick, my top writers. You have an hour to create a good story and win my approval. Once the top of the hourglass runs out of sand, that means time is up. The winner of this challenge will get a very special golden pen,” God explains. “Interesting,” I say. Roderick stares at me in disapproval. God signals us. “Begin,” God says. I start writing what’s in my head quickly. “Create a superhero that saves the world in a day. It may be corny in people’s eyes, but the simple things are more enjoyable than the overly intricate ones,” I tell myself. Time races, I’m trying not to look at the hourglass. “Just keep writing, Mason,” I tell myself. I keep going as if I’m trying to speed through this challenge. Raised my head and looked around me. “Wow, I’m surrounded by angels with golden and silver armor on. Holding gold spears and gold swords in their sheaths. Clouds are everywhere, surrounding us and the sky. Wind blowing like feels like I'm back in California.” I look at my opponent, a tall guy with curly dark brown hair. Wearing a gold cloak with white trim and a pen matching. It looked good. I wanted one of my own, but I can’t let that stop me. If I had one of those, I’m sure people would cheer for me just as much, too. I may be a writer on earth, but not so much here. Wait, there is no difference. “I won’t let this affect me,” I said. I turn my head back towards my paper and continue writing. I’m already over a quarter of the way done with the story. God watches from his throne and says Twenty minutes have passed, forty left to go, boys. My opponent smiles and yells from his desk. “God, I’m going to beat this human. He’s not only terrified of competition, but also afraid he can’t match up to an angel. I’ll defeat this human, and then I’ll write about his loss so that he’ll be mocked for the rest of his life.” When my opponent, Roderick, said that, I could feel my bones harden, my blood boil, my body heating up tensely, and my head felt like one of those cartoons with the steam coming out of the head. I let his words fade and started writing more intensely. I don’t care if I’m just a human up here; it doesn’t mean I can’t be a great writer for God. I write intensely, and I feel my hand start to tense up. “It’s ok, you’re done,” I tell myself. I look at God, and I feel a wave of calmness reach my body, head to toes. I look over to see Roderick, arms folded, standing, looking at me smugly. “I guess he was finished before me,” I said. God’s hand raises, ‘The hourglass has run out of sand, both writers away from your desks. I will call the winner once I am done with both stories. As God is thoroughly looking at our stories, I look at the crowd, and I see them waiting patiently. God looks at Roderick, looks at me, and announces the winner. “The winner of this competition is Mason!!!” The crowd erupts with yelling. Roderick yelled, “Noo!!!!!!” I proudly smile, feeling the waves of the crowd’s screams as it vibrates through me. God settles the crowd with his hand. “Now, Mason, will you accept this pen and responsibility to be my writer until the end of time?” Without hesitation, I yell, “I SWEAR!!!” God smiles and hands me the gold pen. It has my name engraved on it. God smiles, “Congrats, my son.” I raised my fist with the pen in my hand. Without realizing it, I click the pen, and the crowd gasps. A silence quickly emerges among the crowd. Even Roderick’s mouth dropped. The entire crowd begins to cheer even louder as golden wings are released from my back. I look at them in awe and couldn’t figure out what to say. I got so happy, my wings took off in flight. I went so high that I quickly felt a warm feeling. At first, I couldn’t understand it, but now I know...Peace.

I see someone flying up towards me in the distance. It’s Roderick, man, I hope he doesn’t try to beat me up. He reaches up to me, and that same glare turns into a face of approval. “I appreciate that you humbled me, and it gave me a lot to think about. Storytelling isn’t about who you are. It’s about soul, your spirit, and you conveyed that. I apologize for the way I acted. I guess I lost myself. I’m Roderick God’s leader in arms.” He extends his hand out for my hand. Hesitant at first, I do the same, and we shake hands. I’m Mason. I just became God’s number 1 writer. Ok, no need to rub it in, you won, Roderick says. We both laugh, and that’s how I became God’s Writing Champion.

Aaron Blair Jr is a writer that is not afraid to go in different genres or styles in his stories. He is from Oakland California and is 30. Started his journey in school last year student at Full Sail University graduating with a BA in May this year. This will be his second story with an Adelaide Literary Magazine with promises of more stories.