For the first thirty-two years of his life Ray Gaffney did not know who his father was.
He did not care either.
That all changed at a party. After he had sex. When he had a vision.
The sex he did not remember. Neither at the time or later when he had occasion to recall events.
He could not bring to mind the woman’s name. Anything about her. What transpired between them. In fact, Ray could not swear on anything sacred that they had sexual intercourse. So hazy was his memory. So inconsequential their supposed coupling.
The vision however changed his life.
To this day Ray does not recall whether or not the intoxicating substances he took that night before he experienced the vision were legal, illegal, or a combination of the two.
He just recalls the vision. Discovering who his father was.
“Not all those who seek redemption have sinned.
Not all those who seek enlightenment reside in ignorance.
Not all those who seek hedonistic pleasure live without joy.
But all those who recognise the word of the Lord through me shall find a place in His Kingdom.”
Ray scoured the auditorium looking for a face. Not the face of someone he knew but a face he knew he would be familiar with once he set eyes upon it.
In front of him, thirty-five rows of seating. Each, twenty-two seats wide. Eleven either side of an aisle no wider than a trestle table. Every seat taken.
Seven hundred and seventy people.
Three rows from the back of the hall Ray spied the face. A young woman, shaven-headed; skin paler than mother’s milk, lips similarly not coloured in. The woman held hands with her neighbours, arms crossed over her lap as Ray Gaffney would have it.
It was a nice touch he always thought.
New Years Eve without the singing.
The young woman with not a hair on her head was smiling. A smile as nourishing as any maternally derived sustenance.
“Do not say, when will I be forgiven, say: I forgive those who sin against me.
Do not demand to know answers when there are more questions to be asked.
Do not return again and again to the well of happiness when the spirit of joy flows all around you.
Do join me again and again in praising His undying compassion and love for His citizens here on Earth.”
Her eyes never left his. Even from a distance as great as that which separated them Ray saw glory shine from her person.
It was her. No mistake. The girl who came to Ray in his dreams. The girl he knew better than he knew the feel of his own name as it left his devilled tongue.
Jemima.
The first disciple to join him – and the last – seven years hence – to desert him.
Nine more young women would join Jemima. In turn forsake his bed. Denounce his claims as heretical. Disinvest his saintliness. Lead the frenzied mob eager to wrench away the trappings of idolatry.
Ray knew all of this would come to pass. After all, his demise had been foretold alongside the revelation of his ancestry and even the true Son of God had to concede, no one was invincible.
“A young lady would like to speak to you Ray.”
“Oh yes.”
“Says she wants to join the church. Says she might look bad on the outside but she’s really good on the inside.”
“I can change that.”
“I’ll introduce you then. Her name is…”
“No need for introductions.”
literally stories 
There are lots of possibilities here. It’s a sign of a good story when it’s bigger than its word-count. All the best. Vic.
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Thank you Vic. There are gaps here for sure – as a fellow writer I suspect you filled them to you satisfaction. The word count is near our specified lower limit of 500. We have discussed what constitutes a ‘complete’ story and could therefore be described as ‘satisfying’ and the consensus is we don’t have one other than number of words is not a substantive factor – all the best – Adam
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Very cool story, Adam. I can echo what Vic said. It would be a great antagonist in a longer piece. A detective story. Perhaps you should create a PI from Iceland who always drink Absolut Vodka and follows Sheffield United. Hey, I’m getting all worked up on this novel now. Go ahead and write it!
ATVB my friend
Tobbe
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It would have been cooler had I set the story in Malmo/Copenhagen and Ray had come to the attention of a jovial Danish detective and his socially inept Swedish female counterpart who were trying to track down a girl with a dragon tattoo crossing a Bridge in pursuit of a mixed-up journalist on the run from a billionaire industrialist – in fact I had thought we might co-write this and add in the Vodka and football etc. but I don’t think it will sell – take care my friend.
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A very satisfying short Adam: the photo illustration (is that you?); the pithy one line admonitions; the sinister identification of the protagonist with the son of God, knowing that there’s a kind of get-out clause – like Christ, he’s doomed.
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Thank you Richard. Tis me aged 37 when I still looked young for my age. I left some wriggle-room for the reader to decide is he deluded or calculating? Charismatics fascinate me – I like pithy BTW – all the best, Adam
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Hi Adam, some good touches here. Strong language and pithy lines. It left me wanting a little more. I see from the above comments it could be extended. It should. I liked the overtones you created and the sense that beneath all the visible Goodness he might be the Devil incarnate. Cheers. Des
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Thank you Des. You’re right of course – many a novel began as a short. I am confident Ray could fill a novel and getting to know him would be an education. Who knows? ATVB – Adam
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Adam, your devilish story worked for me just as it was. Perfectly chilling! And the best cover yet! Always, June
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Thank you June. One of these days I am going to write a happy story about happy people with feel good factor shot through the middle and then wake up and realise I was dreaming – take care, Adam
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Hi Adam, this story left me with a great deal to ponder. It is so close to reality that to claim it as fiction is disturbing, Religious cults to me are very scary..
I must admit I have not been writing for the last few weeks, work and earning a crust get in the way, but this story has inspired me to get my feathery quill sharpened, roll out my grass parchment and scribe some tales of adventure.
Write on,
James.
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Thank you James. Hearing someone is inspired to write as a result of reading one of my stories gives me a wonderful feeling. I hope LS is the recipient of your latest work – all the best, Adam
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Hi Adam, I read this and my comments that I have already gave you came flooding back. You hooked the reader within the first three lines. Cults are fascinating. They are worrying and we wonder as a society how they can even be there. Intimacy fuels them and as James has already mentioned your story flirts so close to reality.
A very powerful piece of work within such a small word count!
All the very best my friend.
Hugh
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Thank you Hugh. The opening lines are as important as you say. Hook the reader and keep them there. All the best, Adam
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Many electrifying jolts in this short and frightening insight into a world too close for comfort. Each word counted, a lean and effective story,
Thanks
Ceinwen
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Thank you Ceinwen. I am a minimalist at heart and generally striving for the lean look – all the best, Adam
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Top notch stuff as always Adam. As you know by now I love pieces that leave me with a bunch of questions but still have that sense of holding together as a complete story. Job done I’d say. Cheers, Nik
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Very kind Nik. I’ve just finished a couple of fine (slim) novels – or novellas if you like – and brevity certainly has its virtues I find – ATVB – Adam
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