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Flash Fiction: Was I ...
Spiritually Guided? by Tom Horonzy
Faith Flash Fiction contest entry

 
One day in May nineteen thirty-three, I was ambling along a dusty road making sales cold calls with my latest hire. We knocked on doors for a long while, hoping the next one would turn our luck around. I needed a win to buoy the spirit of my rookie salesman so he wouldn't go home hungry or angry.

Then ahead, a sign read something about a mission home for saints. We wandered towards the door. What better place to knock than on a door of faith. How could they turn us away? They didn't. The door opened. I asked could we talk to the boss. The young man answered. "I'll see if he has time for thee," disappearing temporarily.

Upon his return, he stepped aside and invited us to "come inside," directing us to a room where the man-in-charge welcomed us with a smile. This seemed promising, so I began my spiel. Lee, my companion, listened.

Throughout the presentation, the man listened. When I got through, he reverently said, "Sorry, I don't need your products. My car and home are insured, and as for life insurance, I'd risk my life daily to save a soul for Jesus Christ."

Oh-oh. I should have expected what came next, and it did. "Since I've given you ten minutes, would you allow my representatives to call your home to share a message with you and yours?"

Not wanting to say no, as the missus and I hadn't stepped through a sanctuary door in years, I said, "Sure," assured that when they found how far from town we lived, they would forget about it. I was wrong.

Thus, we began receiving calls, asking if they could visit. My answer would be a wisecrack, such as "not tonight, our fish has drowned." However, the person never gave up, filling our party line with too many calls, I said to the missus, "Let's get it over with. We'll welcome them, hear their message and say, 'no interest.' " So, we did, not knowing how the plan would end.

The night of their visit, two young men rapped on our basement door. Somewhat confused and visibly miffed, I stormed down the stairs. I'd make them pay for the imposition. Then, as I cracked the door only an inch, something chilled me from head to toe with goosebumps.

That was the beginning of an end that changed our lives. It took months to convince me to surrender to the will of God but when I could no longer resist, I asked the wife, "What of you?" Her response surprised me. "I've been ready since week one, but my telling you might have swayed your decision, and that would have been wrong, so I never spoke up." Smart cookie, that bride of mine, and though there was no contract to sign, we realized the best salesperson in the room that night was the Spirit of the Lord. We've been in attendance ever since.

Author Notes
Photo found on Pexels.com

Though a ribbon of truth winds its way through this piece the story takes place at a time when roads were dusty, and salesmen walked their way day by day until their shoe leather wore out. Not exactly my cup of tea.

     

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