The last few weeks of school staring me down, I thought I would have to let this week’s prompt pass. But, last night, before I went comatose, this is what I came up with. Enjoy!
WEEKLY WRITING PROMPT “Agent O’Malley, God, and A Woman Named Kim”
Agent Patrick O’Malley shook his head as he watched a verrrry exasperated but dazzling professor scribble angry, crimson-inked notes on her students’ papers before pitching them across the room.
“What’s the matter with these kids?” she muttered. “It’s as though they have eaten their books. Did they ever have them, to begin with? This is the lousiest stack of themes I’ve ever seen!”
Perching atop her desk, as his charge fumed, fussed, and generally carried on something awful, O’Malley, a Texas angel, shook his head, and looked heavenward. “God! It’s me, O’Malley. Reckon you could help me, down here, dreckly?”
An earthquake knocked over a nearby oak tree.
“Patience, there, O’Malley,” boomed the Almighty. “I told you, ahead of time, that Kim was a handful. And I put my very best agent in charge.”
“Me? Well, thanks,” said O’Malley, briefly humbled. “But you didn’t warn me how much of a handful she is. Like, do you really know this chick?”
“Know her?” said God. The earth rumbled with the roar of his laughter. “I created her, remember?”
“That You did. I can’t let her out of my sight for one minute. I’m trying to tell you, this broad – um, woman – requires twenty-four-hour surveillance. Let’s face it, she needs a keeper.”
O’Malley scratched the budding wings on his shoulders until they bled. Suckers itched like the dickens.
This God never failed to amaze him.
“So, tell me, God, how on earth do you manage to watch everyone, everywhere, all the time, anyway? Doesn’t your neck hurt? Don’t you ever get eye strain?”
Again, the ground quaked. God was, no doubt, rolling on the floor of Heaven, clutching His sides.
“Whaaaat?” the angel said, hands on hips.
The heavens opened. Shooting stars zoomed back and forth.
“O’Malley, while you’ve been flapping your gums about Kim, she’s been spewing words vile enough to make old Lucifer blush, and now – uh-oh, look out! — she’s stomping into the kitchen to make herself another margarita.”
He raised His Almighty hand to shoo the angel away. “Get along, now, boy. Go do your job.”
Continuing to watch Kim from His VIP section, God shook His omniscient head.
“Boy, is she ever going to regret that second ‘rita when her alarm goes off at early-thirty. It’s not like I didn’t try to tell her. From the prayers I’ve been hearing, those rascals bring on raging, five-star hangovers.”
“So, why do you still put up with her, anyway? Really?” asked O’Malley, still hanging around.
God chuckled. Trees swayed.
“O’Malley, you’ve been in charge of Kim for only a little while. Maybe you are too close to the situation to see what I see from up here. Now, she made seem a little rough around the edges, but, trust me, she’s a good old girl with a heart big as Texas. She loves her kids and grandkids something fierce. And that husband I sent her? Well, if you could see what I see– zowee! They unwrap my wedding gift almost every night.”
“Wedding gift? What do you mean?”
“You know,” said God, with a pregnant wiggle of His eyebrows. “My little gift to all husbands and wives. Just in time for their wedding night. Hee-hee.”
He rubbed His hands gleefully. A host of baby stars twinkled in the evening sky.
Well, O’Malley was not the brightest agent, His eyes clouded over. “God, I still don’t know what you’re talking about but I’ll take Your word for it.”
God smiled beatifically. The moon glowed like the noonday sun in the midnight sky.
“Boy, can that old girl teach! I’ve seen her students mesmerized by her lessons on Shakespeare’s Hamlet…that’s hard to do, you know, keep today’s students engaged by stories about guys in knee breeches.”
O’Malley nodded. “Okay, I hear you.”
“And, frustrated as she gets, she takes the extra time to write notes on even the worst essays to encourage the clueless. So, before I give you an easier charge, give her a little more time.”
“Yeah,” said O’Malley. “If you say so, sir.”
“So are we good, here?” asked God.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Hey, remember who you’re talking to, here. A yessir will suffice.”
“Yes, sir,” mumbled O’Malley.
“Good. Now, go head on. I have wars to end. People to heal. Prayers to answer.”