A Shattering Instant

There are moments in this “puddle-wonderful” life where the sheets of expectation ripple into themselves and expose the undaintified slumberer whom we all felt but had never seen. In these “disturbed revelations”, most men untangle; they loosen the ever-tightening knots securing them to their decking and lie straight, completely vulnerable to the insidious will of their disturbers, who bear sharpened fangs and lower their scissors with pleasure…
When all goes according to plan, this is the general effect. However, plans rarely go accordingly, so what is to be done about a force that reaches over the bulwark of entity, structures itself…is itself, an entity? Here it selects an avatar to impose a frightening message with total impartiality—a mental demon capable of possession; a monstrous lottery. The effect is astounding, but temporary. Humanity has a way of turning benefits unrecognizable, and, recognizing itself as the only real benefit, performs a successful exorcism of what appeared impish and deceptive.
These rituals take place often, and with the absence of them we may find our imp taking the coarse shape of a coarse god.

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Saint Augustine’s Church of the Confession, 213 Holyoke Avenue, Steadfast, MA. Chapels such as this were innumerable in the densely Irish state, and Talib had seen nearly three-fourths of these. The uniform framework: Altar (and eyes) up front, Jesus (and heart) up above, stained-glass windows all around and pews, almost like stables, waited to be filled every Saturday and Sunday by those who sought truth (so long as truth and solace held each other’s hands). “It is such a peculiar thing”, thought Talib, “the adornment splattered on these walls. Scanning through this truly dead sea, it’s impossible not to wonder…”
Even Talib’s own thoughts were made inaudible by the booming voice of this preacher.
“…And so, we are all navigating our way through this test, through our lives. But my friends, we are so very lucky! In the early days Man had no maps, no aid to find his way through the very tumultuous caverns, obstacles and trials he faced: ultimately, this man was in a state of perpetual failure. Why, even after the Lord expressed his anger, even after Sodom and Gomorrah, after the wrath placed on countless, barbaric souls, Pre-Christian souls, Man could not find his way in quieting what remained of the beast! A tragic time, filled with pestilence and sickness, death and sadness; a time no human ever wants to revisit. What in all of God’s illustrious heavenly landscape could have erased so wholly this mark of the beast, this black stain of the human heart? I say, do any of you know? It is a simple, yet powerfully divine answer to such a complex question, my friends, I do believe you all know it! Have you heard the name Jesus my friends?! Have you felt him from his touch? Breathed him in your soul? He is the map, the Savior, the divining spirit-frenzy that said to us all, ‘Here and look: I am what, the prime example. I am what is good, reject what is evil, and here is that, too!’ He made it so clear for us, my friends, and…”
Suddenly, almost spastically, all audible thoughts returned and shot up Talib’s backside with the force of an electrical shock. Every limb quivered, and sweat snuck down his cheeks, dripping to the floor in a puddle. The feeling had never come before, and it was as freeing as it was macabre. The noise emitting from the preacher faded to eventual silence, the thought got louder and more protruding, it slithered down his nasal cavity and lingered in his throat like vomit, he tried to suppress it all that he could but it took him, became him, tried to stop it but, but--
“WHO WAS HE TO SAY?” The quivering ended and the shock shot him up; the vacuous silence of his mind had now manifested itself throughout that utterly breathless church.

Enjoyed it.....would love to read the longer version though.....

Well, that was fun. Who's been breathing the ether again now?

Here are my thoughts and suggested tweaks:

I don’t see a need for quotation marks neither for “disturbed revelations” nor for “puddle-wonderful”, after all the rest of the section isn’t more sane, so why this division. Both “disturbed revelations” and for “puddle-wonderful” fit in quite well without any quotation marks.

But from what I understood of the logic of the narrative, the ‘successful’ in ‘humanity has a way of turning benefits unrecognizable, and, recognizing itself as the only real benefit, performs a successful exorcism of what appeared impish and deceptive’ should be in quotation marks, or have a ‘faux’ or ‘perceived’ or ‘short-lived’ or ‘illusory’ attached to it or something. If I got the meaning right, that is, which you must admit hasn't exactly been brought on a platter to the reader.

One hip bit wobbling on the verge of being clumsy: densely Irish state

I think that “almost like stables” can become ‘(like stables)’ thus stabilizing the style in this particular portion of the text by becoming a continuation of the ‘semi-sardonical illustration in brackets’ technique.

How about this “Scanning through this truly dead sea, it’s impossible not to wonder… Even Talib’s own thoughts were made inaudible by the booming voice of this preacher.” Becoming something like this: “it’s impossible not to wonder… The wonder was made inaudible by the booming voice of this preacher.” Or some other way to not lose connection with the previous sentence.

This description: “Every limb quivered, and sweat snuck down his cheeks, dripping to the floor in a puddle.” – means that he is leaning forward, otherwise the sweat would be going on his clothes and crotch. His precise position in physical space should be identified here.

Also, at least a sentence for the other people in the church should have appeared by now. Even if the idea is to show the connection between him and the priest drown out everything else, still, we should at least see once the hint of the vague shadowy presence of the other people present.

If you were Peter Straub or an earlier Koontz this sermon junkie could turn out to be a spiritual serial killer who has taken upon himself to judge by his personal reaction which priests of the land truly work for God and which are secretly the puppets of Lucifer, or something..

pettybage, Thank you for the review. You did make a lot of good points, especially dropping the almost before stables...English is, after all, a Germanic language, a language of force. The less words, the more impact, so I will definitely be taking that advice. I put quotations over puddle-wonderful because it's from a pretty popular EE Cummings poem and although I understand writers are allowed to make allusions, I figured the quotations would strengthen how much I wanted this to be an allusion, but perhaps I am just overanalysing haha. I thought densely Irish state was awkward, too, I just have yet to figure out what to do about it. If I do add a sentence about the church-goers, it won't be very involved nor descriptive, because I want that vibe attached to them; this is truly between Talib and the preacher and in an even deeper sense, Talib and himself.

The biggest thing I wanted to point out was (and perhaps I am giving myself too much credibility or license) that I am not attempting to be a literary author here. This is a philosophical work with an interwoven story. I want the story to feel like a story, not a vehicle for concepts, so I appreciate the input, but disturbed revelations is a concept I've been exploring in a book of aphorisms I've been keeping and hope to one day get published, or put into a journal at the very least. That is the reason for the quotes. As to the lack of quotes around successful...I literally mean that it has happened successfully. The demonic force is simply an analogy for "dangerous", or innovative, lines of thinking: Atheist thoughts in a religious era, a denouncing of equal rights, support for the LGBT movement in a time where it is unheard of...when this successful exorcism is performed, whatever effect birthed by these new ways in thinking (they were new at some point) is erased by other humans, who don't want to see change or can't face it themselves. I am eighteen years old and by nature some of my thoughts will be superficial, but I like to think not all of them are. Any human being of any age with any thought gives that thought value in thinking it. I'm going out on a limb...let it break. I'm only in a tree, worst thing is that I'll sprain my ankle, and I can always come back from that.

...why not try plan a plot specifically around some of the ideas you would like to convey? But not have the ideas summarized by the narrator, nor voiced by characters, but rather played out within the story itself? You could put all your ideas into one long narrative, or a divide into story cycles. That would be both good writing exercise, rack up some word-count to stabilize the technique, and also you get to construct simulated realities in which to play out and examine from various angles your ideas. It's difficult, but should be very rewarding, if you have the discipline, hihi, which, as you say, being an 18yr old, is always suspect:)