The Start of a Story

At the Writers’ Group Meeting last Saturday, the prompt was: Write a story in 15-minutes, using the Western Theme, either historical or modern.  Include at least one of three objects: terra cotta pot, glove, and or a boot, if not all three.  We had about 10-minutes to edit…

Christmas Hinkle pulled on her well-used, right boot slowly, thoughtfully, while thinking about the upcoming gunfight at the Alright Corral down the street.  Then, the left boot ate the appropriate foot before she stood up, ready to take the next step.

Before leaving the hotel room, Chris poured the left-over water, from the glass that the hotel gave her the night before, into a large terra cotta flower pot in front of the window looking over the Main Street of bustling Dodge City.

She opened the door, while double checking her holsters—low-slung and strapped on her denim-covered legs.  Chris had cleaned her four hand guns before going to bed last night.  She liked keeping the two 45’s in the holsters and the two Derringers under her arms in mini-holsters, because she never knew when there wouldn’t be time to reload.

Femininely stepping down the wooden stairs and looking down into the lobby to see who was there, Chris made her way into the hotel’s restaurant for breakfast.  It could be her last, she’d make it a good one.  Entering the eating area, her senses heightened when she heard the voices of her longtime enemies, the murderers of her parents and brother.  She had tracked them down during the past three years, talking with Rangers, sheriffs, and anyone else she could think of to help her seek justice, but nobody seemed interested.  After discovering the killers in the Fort Worth area of Texas, she found an old gunfighter to teach her how to shoot fast and true.

She trained determinedly for months, shooting anything and everything, including hunting game.  Then the old gunfighter had given her his lucky pair of gloves, not too thick, not too thin, and made of deer hide leather.  Chris had intentions for the gloves, other than wearing them.  She and the gunfighter parted company and she traveled to her prey’s hunting grounds, where they gambled, robbed people living out by themselves, and caused hate and discontent.  Why the Rangers weren’t interested was beyond her.

She approached the murderers last night in the saloon, after keeping the saloon owner from escorting her (a woman) out of the building by poking a Colt-45 in his face.  Chris took the old gunfighter’s gloves and threw them down in front of the three killers, on their poker table, and told them to meet her at the Alright Corral at 10:00 the next morning or she’d come hunting them.  They laughed, but with her hand gun pointed at them they agreed.  All the men sitting around in the saloon smirked and one said he’d make sure they wouldn’t run away from a woman.

That was last night, now for breakfast…


Poet in the Guard Shack

My younger sister works as a security guard and when Christmas is over, it gets very boring, so to perk her up I asked her to write about it in poetry.  Here they are…

Sitting in My Little Guard Hut

Sitting in my little guard hut,

Hardly anyone coming or going, but

My mind wanders to and fro:

Grocery lists, to do lists, time passes so slow.

The gate opens, “Oh! Some excitement now,”

but men are just working, so I crinkle my brow

and concentrate on writing this poem

to pass the time until I go home. (sigh)


Power Outage

We have a power outage today.

So, no heat in my guard hut and I may

freeze to death from the inclement weather.

I wished for double socks and an additional sweater.

But I’m stuck here and therefore I must make do

so I ordered from Doordash (they bring food to you).

Two cups of hot tea arrived after awhile.

My hands on the hot cups thawed me out and I smiled.

I just might survive today without getting sick.

I’ll know tomorrow if the hot tea did the trick.


Ethos is the distinctive essence of a culture, era, or community as shown in its beliefs and ambitions.  Some synonyms are character, atmosphere, and mood.

Spiritually: the culture of God’s Kingdom comes from Heaven itself, from the words of the Holy Spirit in the Bible, from the love of God and Jesus.  We’re to be very happy in the Lord, and again, be very happy (Philippians 4:4).  As Jesus modeled on earth, His kingdom is full of love, good works, and worshiping God, and all eyes are to focus on heavenly things more than earthly things (Col. 3) …ethos.

(Of course, if there are citizens in God’s kingdom who don’t behave in sync with the ethos, they are aliens, criminals, spies, whatever…)


The ability of certain metals or alloys to conduct an electric current with almost no resistance.  Superconductivity usually happens close to absolute zero, about -459°F (below 0), but has also been seen at temperatures as high as -200°F (below 0).

Spiritually: Some of our trials, tragedies, and losses are unbearable, but as with Joseph, Daniel, and Jesus—at the absolute zero of suffering, that’s when God’s unimaginable power can flow unresistingly through us to let Him blaze in glory for those around us…superconductivity.


(Remember that I have a screensaver that floats words around and occasionally leaves the definitions.  I see them and find spiritual applications to them, and they are not the only applications.  I just keep ’em short.)



Chrestomathy is a selection of passages from an author or authors, designed to help in learning a language.

Spiritually: Reading and studying the Bible, of which author is God, will more than adequately teach anyone, anywhere on the planet, to learn God’s language or the language of Heaven, which includes God’s culture and the history of His people…chrestomathy.