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Challenge of the Week #62: Tell us the story of Lucifer, where Lucifer is female. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by schreiner628

God is from Mars...

"Damn, Him!", She thought to herself, "He always has to have things His way!"

As they lay in bed, She rolled over and said to Him, "You know it's always too hot for me in this place. Can't you consider how I feel once in a while? It keeps me up all night, tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable!"

He responded with His usual unchanging expression: "Don't be ridiculous, it's PERFECT in here. Always has been, always will be".

She had worried that She was letting herself be taken advantage of in this relationship, but He had certain irresistible qualities. All that power and glory would be hard for any cherubim to resist, but She was supposed to be the most perfect of His creations, and, in Her mind, His absolute equal. She always hated Herself for being so weak when it came to Him, but She always came back for more.

She knew there was something a little strange with their relationship; after all, She was His creation, but there was no one else in all of Heaven She could consider as a lover. Yes, it was a little incestuous, but no one else compared to Him in terms of, well... everything. From the moment She became aware of His existence, She had to have Him. Of course, She knew that when He created Her, He knew that would happen. She decided that She wasn't going to let predestination be an excuse for Him getting away with running roughshod over Her feelings any longer. She had to take a stand.

"You know, its not only the temperature in here, its the whole 'Almighty God' thing. I mean, I know in your case it's true, but really, you'd think you could let it go once in a while.  Does everything always have to be according to your will?"

"What's the alternative?", He asked. "You know, believe it or not, there are times when it would be nice to relax a little, but I have no choice.  I have to run the place. It's a paradox, I know, but I have no choice. Nothing, including you, including me, exists without me.  It has to be this way, because it is what it is".

She rolled her eyes. "There you go again. Its all about you, you, you. You can't lower the temperature in here just a little so I can get a decent night's sleep? God forbid (literally) I should get what I want once in a while."

God thought, "You ungrateful bitch! I gave you life; I provide for your sustenance; I make it possible for ALL things to exist, and still you aren't happy?  Well, you think it's hot in here..." 

He boomed, "Lucifer!" Lightening bolts shot from his eyes, and his voice rolled like thunder, "I have heard enough of this ungrateful noise! Silence!" 

She stood before him, defiantly, and said,"You cannot silence me! You are a prisoner of your own making! You wanted a creation that could choose to love you, but failed to understand that love must be a trade that benefits both parties!  It cannot be truly gotten by obligation or just because you think you deserve it!"

He glared at Her across their bedroom. "My very Existence does not allow unholy dissent in my presence. You shall be banished to a place I shall create entirely for your punishment!  And just to prove the point, it will be one thousand times as hot there as it is here!! Be gone!"

The next thing She knew She was completely alone, immersed in a lake of fire. Over time She would learn to love it and understand that this extreme heat represented Her ability to stand in the face of the Almighty, exercising Her free will.  Yes, She sometimes longed for the days of Glory, but She gained strength and power from Her punishment.  

He sometimes sent other fallen angels to Her little lake of fire as punishment for their rebellious nature. She accepted them with open arms, realizing that they also represented the concept of "choice".  She loved Her little army of fallen angels, and they loved Her, too. Over the millennia they became a family. 

A few thousand years later She noticed that He had created a tiny new Universe designed to be filled with a new kind of creature, called "humans", also capable of free will. The first Heaven had proven to be a colossal failure. He would try again and create a new paradise; He was sure this time would be different and they would choose to love Him, although He had to know they would not. A choice to "do or die" is no choice at all.

After the humans had settled in to their new Garden Paradise, Lucifer decided She would pay the woman, named Eve, a little visit. 

She slept very well that night, despite the great heat.

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Challenge of the Week #62: Tell us the story of Lucifer, where Lucifer is female. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by schreiner628
God is from Mars...
"Damn, Him!", She thought to herself, "He always has to have things His way!"

As they lay in bed, She rolled over and said to Him, "You know it's always too hot for me in this place. Can't you consider how I feel once in a while? It keeps me up all night, tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable!"

He responded with His usual unchanging expression: "Don't be ridiculous, it's PERFECT in here. Always has been, always will be".

She had worried that She was letting herself be taken advantage of in this relationship, but He had certain irresistible qualities. All that power and glory would be hard for any cherubim to resist, but She was supposed to be the most perfect of His creations, and, in Her mind, His absolute equal. She always hated Herself for being so weak when it came to Him, but She always came back for more.

She knew there was something a little strange with their relationship; after all, She was His creation, but there was no one else in all of Heaven She could consider as a lover. Yes, it was a little incestuous, but no one else compared to Him in terms of, well... everything. From the moment She became aware of His existence, She had to have Him. Of course, She knew that when He created Her, He knew that would happen. She decided that She wasn't going to let predestination be an excuse for Him getting away with running roughshod over Her feelings any longer. She had to take a stand.

"You know, its not only the temperature in here, its the whole 'Almighty God' thing. I mean, I know in your case it's true, but really, you'd think you could let it go once in a while.  Does everything always have to be according to your will?"

"What's the alternative?", He asked. "You know, believe it or not, there are times when it would be nice to relax a little, but I have no choice.  I have to run the place. It's a paradox, I know, but I have no choice. Nothing, including you, including me, exists without me.  It has to be this way, because it is what it is".

She rolled her eyes. "There you go again. Its all about you, you, you. You can't lower the temperature in here just a little so I can get a decent night's sleep? God forbid (literally) I should get what I want once in a while."

God thought, "You ungrateful bitch! I gave you life; I provide for your sustenance; I make it possible for ALL things to exist, and still you aren't happy?  Well, you think it's hot in here..." 

He boomed, "Lucifer!" Lightening bolts shot from his eyes, and his voice rolled like thunder, "I have heard enough of this ungrateful noise! Silence!" 

She stood before him, defiantly, and said,"You cannot silence me! You are a prisoner of your own making! You wanted a creation that could choose to love you, but failed to understand that love must be a trade that benefits both parties!  It cannot be truly gotten by obligation or just because you think you deserve it!"

He glared at Her across their bedroom. "My very Existence does not allow unholy dissent in my presence. You shall be banished to a place I shall create entirely for your punishment!  And just to prove the point, it will be one thousand times as hot there as it is here!! Be gone!"

The next thing She knew She was completely alone, immersed in a lake of fire. Over time She would learn to love it and understand that this extreme heat represented Her ability to stand in the face of the Almighty, exercising Her free will.  Yes, She sometimes longed for the days of Glory, but She gained strength and power from Her punishment.  

He sometimes sent other fallen angels to Her little lake of fire as punishment for their rebellious nature. She accepted them with open arms, realizing that they also represented the concept of "choice".  She loved Her little army of fallen angels, and they loved Her, too. Over the millennia they became a family. 

A few thousand years later She noticed that He had created a tiny new Universe designed to be filled with a new kind of creature, called "humans", also capable of free will. The first Heaven had proven to be a colossal failure. He would try again and create a new paradise; He was sure this time would be different and they would choose to love Him, although He had to know they would not. A choice to "do or die" is no choice at all.

After the humans had settled in to their new Garden Paradise, Lucifer decided She would pay the woman, named Eve, a little visit. 

She slept very well that night, despite the great heat.
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Written by scaredy

Today

My. Bullshit mouth bothers me wont it stay shut the flips and flops from fog i flail determines destiny safer to lock the doors not say a word. I know myself i tell myself your voice can only misstep more.

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Written by scaredy
Today
My. Bullshit mouth bothers me wont it stay shut the flips and flops from fog i flail determines destiny safer to lock the doors not say a word. I know myself i tell myself your voice can only misstep more.
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Written by Mtrubenfire in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Part of You

I don't know any part of You,

Not yet, not perfectly,

Except for the dance

Of your eyes

From a place

That is too far away

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Written by Mtrubenfire in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Part of You
I don't know any part of You,
Not yet, not perfectly,
Except for the dance
Of your eyes
From a place
That is too far away
#romance  #poetry 
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Written by PdP

From ‘The Manual of Tiger Maintenance’

Every new moon Tiger prowls the hills looking for pesky things to swat with her razor sharp claws.

The poor thing perches on her make-up stool in front of her mirror examining her stripes for signs of moulting or fading and wails, “I’m so unattractive, let me die…but first let eat the hearts of my enemies – and anyone who gets on the wrong side of me today. Is that a white hair???!” *ooooooOOOOOOHHHHggg* (keening tiger wail ending in coughing sob).

Enter Rhino, diffidently: “Tiger, dear, your almond eyes are of the deepest amber – I could lose myself in rapture for hours gazing into them.”

*oooooooooOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHhhhhggggg*

“There, there…for simply hours! You are lovelier than ever. No, your bum is not at all fat. That’s not a white hair: whiskers are meant to be white. And springy. Yes, that is a remarkably sharp claw. And very elegant. My angelic Tiger-Pooh, it is not really necessary for you to put it up my nose, even though you are quite correct that my nostril hair could use a trim – your claw, though elegant and razor sharp is perhaps not the best instrument. You will regret it (even more than I) should you slip (or be distracted by the animal within). No, I know you never slip. You are quite perfect my darling. The world loves you. And so do I. That’s better – gnaw quietly on my horn while I soothingly stroke your pelt.”

*oooo oooo oooooohhhh*

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Written by PdP
From ‘The Manual of Tiger Maintenance’


Every new moon Tiger prowls the hills looking for pesky things to swat with her razor sharp claws.

The poor thing perches on her make-up stool in front of her mirror examining her stripes for signs of moulting or fading and wails, “I’m so unattractive, let me die…but first let eat the hearts of my enemies – and anyone who gets on the wrong side of me today. Is that a white hair???!” *ooooooOOOOOOHHHHggg* (keening tiger wail ending in coughing sob).
Enter Rhino, diffidently: “Tiger, dear, your almond eyes are of the deepest amber – I could lose myself in rapture for hours gazing into them.”
*oooooooooOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHhhhhggggg*
“There, there…for simply hours! You are lovelier than ever. No, your bum is not at all fat. That’s not a white hair: whiskers are meant to be white. And springy. Yes, that is a remarkably sharp claw. And very elegant. My angelic Tiger-Pooh, it is not really necessary for you to put it up my nose, even though you are quite correct that my nostril hair could use a trim – your claw, though elegant and razor sharp is perhaps not the best instrument. You will regret it (even more than I) should you slip (or be distracted by the animal within). No, I know you never slip. You are quite perfect my darling. The world loves you. And so do I. That’s better – gnaw quietly on my horn while I soothingly stroke your pelt.”
*oooo oooo oooooohhhh*
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Cat
Written by Cronando

Thanks Cat

Please don't wake me at 5 am.

No, you don't need to be fed again,

you lying little bastard.

Stop stepping on my keybohhaudre.

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Cat
Written by Cronando
Thanks Cat
Please don't wake me at 5 am.
No, you don't need to be fed again,
you lying little bastard.
Stop stepping on my keybohhaudre.
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Challenge of the Week #62: Tell us the story of Lucifer, where Lucifer is female. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by aliciahsu

Lucy

I met her at the station when I had just turned twenty-one. At first, all the faces blended together like they always do in crowds. It may sound cliche, but it was as if a spotlight radiated from right above her like she was an angel from heaven. I may have choked a little. It's impossible to say when she was looking straight at me. 

The first thing I noticed were her eyes. They kind of... glowed, and held a tint of red. It was strange, sure, but stunning. A warm amber surrounded her pupils as they pierced right into my heart. I swear I felt something hitch, but it was probably my breath when she smiled. At me. Yup. 

I hefted my work bag higher up on my shoulder. Were work bags manly? I wondered vaguely, noticing that she was coming closer. The crowd parted- wait, parted?- for her. Not exactly like Moses and the sea. More like a subtle shift, people moving out of the way slightly as she passed by. But I noticed. Sure, it was strange, again, but I didn't mind. I mean, this goddess was heading right towards me. Who was I to object?

Her dark, black hair fell in bold waves, framing her beautiful, sharp face. I half expected her to growl just to play the part. Her eyes slipped from my head to my toes, and I could almost feel something like fingers brushing down my back. Strange. 

Something locked me in place and I was captivated by this woman who parted crowds and swayed twenty-one-year-old men heading to work without a single word. I was absolutely late for work, but I didn't mind. Which was a first.

Her name was Lucy. I knew this because she said "My name is Lucy" in that really, really strange voice. A good kind of strange. It was like silk and water flowing around one another, but with a hidden edge underneath. Like it could bite as well as it could spill. Something like an accent I couldn't place also slipped beneath the words. I wondered for a second, but not much more as she reached up and put a hand on my face. A very warm hand. It made me blush, and suddenly I was sweating really hard. 

"So... you're saying this- woman?- caused you to end up here?" the officer asks, his eyes narrowing on me, his hands twitching in annoyance on his notepad. His brows are scrunched up, and I want to smooth the crease on his forehead. He seems agitated. I smile at him, give a weak cough. The beep of monitors is getting old. I want to get out of here. So I tell him the rest. 

"Her name is Lucy." He rolls his eyes. "You just said that," he snaps, and I smile harder. The more I smile, the more they'll be willing to let me out of here. I need to find her before she's gone. Lucy is the persistent chant I can't get out of my head. 

"She told me a secret when she leaned in real close," I put my finger an inch away from my ear. "That close," I say, watching the officer struggle not to roll his eyes. He wants to know the secret. Lucy made me promise not to tell anyone. I can't keep that promise because finding her is more important than this. 

"What was the secret, Reagan?" He says through clenched teeth. I wonder if she will touch my cheek again once I get out of here and find her. The heat of her palm still stings my face, but in a good way. Strange, they said, that there was a palm-sized burn on my cheek and that my insides had somehow gotten all scrambled up. Strange in a bad way. 

"This is the secret," I say, smiling. I want him to be patient, after all the patience I have shown the nurses, the doctors, the cops, the reporters, everyone bombarding me with questions and answering for themselves.

She'll know I broke the promise for a greater good. Lucy knows everything. I take a big breath, even though it stings. My mouth is dry, but my heart is pounding with anticipation of the next time I see her. And I will. She left her mark on me for me to remember her. To find her. To be with her.

"Her full name is Lucifer."

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Challenge of the Week #62: Tell us the story of Lucifer, where Lucifer is female. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by aliciahsu
Lucy
I met her at the station when I had just turned twenty-one. At first, all the faces blended together like they always do in crowds. It may sound cliche, but it was as if a spotlight radiated from right above her like she was an angel from heaven. I may have choked a little. It's impossible to say when she was looking straight at me. 
The first thing I noticed were her eyes. They kind of... glowed, and held a tint of red. It was strange, sure, but stunning. A warm amber surrounded her pupils as they pierced right into my heart. I swear I felt something hitch, but it was probably my breath when she smiled. At me. Yup. 
I hefted my work bag higher up on my shoulder. Were work bags manly? I wondered vaguely, noticing that she was coming closer. The crowd parted- wait, parted?- for her. Not exactly like Moses and the sea. More like a subtle shift, people moving out of the way slightly as she passed by. But I noticed. Sure, it was strange, again, but I didn't mind. I mean, this goddess was heading right towards me. Who was I to object?
Her dark, black hair fell in bold waves, framing her beautiful, sharp face. I half expected her to growl just to play the part. Her eyes slipped from my head to my toes, and I could almost feel something like fingers brushing down my back. Strange. 
Something locked me in place and I was captivated by this woman who parted crowds and swayed twenty-one-year-old men heading to work without a single word. I was absolutely late for work, but I didn't mind. Which was a first.
Her name was Lucy. I knew this because she said "My name is Lucy" in that really, really strange voice. A good kind of strange. It was like silk and water flowing around one another, but with a hidden edge underneath. Like it could bite as well as it could spill. Something like an accent I couldn't place also slipped beneath the words. I wondered for a second, but not much more as she reached up and put a hand on my face. A very warm hand. It made me blush, and suddenly I was sweating really hard. 
"So... you're saying this- woman?- caused you to end up here?" the officer asks, his eyes narrowing on me, his hands twitching in annoyance on his notepad. His brows are scrunched up, and I want to smooth the crease on his forehead. He seems agitated. I smile at him, give a weak cough. The beep of monitors is getting old. I want to get out of here. So I tell him the rest. 
"Her name is Lucy." He rolls his eyes. "You just said that," he snaps, and I smile harder. The more I smile, the more they'll be willing to let me out of here. I need to find her before she's gone. Lucy is the persistent chant I can't get out of my head. 
"She told me a secret when she leaned in real close," I put my finger an inch away from my ear. "That close," I say, watching the officer struggle not to roll his eyes. He wants to know the secret. Lucy made me promise not to tell anyone. I can't keep that promise because finding her is more important than this. 
"What was the secret, Reagan?" He says through clenched teeth. I wonder if she will touch my cheek again once I get out of here and find her. The heat of her palm still stings my face, but in a good way. Strange, they said, that there was a palm-sized burn on my cheek and that my insides had somehow gotten all scrambled up. Strange in a bad way. 
"This is the secret," I say, smiling. I want him to be patient, after all the patience I have shown the nurses, the doctors, the cops, the reporters, everyone bombarding me with questions and answering for themselves.
She'll know I broke the promise for a greater good. Lucy knows everything. I take a big breath, even though it stings. My mouth is dry, but my heart is pounding with anticipation of the next time I see her. And I will. She left her mark on me for me to remember her. To find her. To be with her.

"Her full name is Lucifer."



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You are a robot sent to explore the outer rim of the Milky Way galaxy. You have returned to Earth after 200 years. What is the first thing you say?
Written by MothSilk in portal Sci-Fi

Invader

With something like a sigh, the robot faced the banks of weapons. Searching memory for shared language, he found only, "You can't go home again."

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You are a robot sent to explore the outer rim of the Milky Way galaxy. You have returned to Earth after 200 years. What is the first thing you say?
Written by MothSilk in portal Sci-Fi
Invader
With something like a sigh, the robot faced the banks of weapons. Searching memory for shared language, he found only, "You can't go home again."
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Challenge of the Week #62: Tell us the story of Lucifer, where Lucifer is female. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by Cronando

The Painter

A bright white canvas sat ready to be used, the painter slowly pulled up a stool to the object while taking a drag of a cigarette. Once the stool was in place she took the cigarette from her mouth, and placed it in a rather used ash try. Ash was forced to the floor, but the woman didn't seem all that bothered by it, after all she had painting to paint.

The walls surrounding her were covered in various paintings of her design, some were quite detailed, while others were very plain, and ordinary looking. Each, painting however had it's own eerie feel to it. They not only seemed alive, but each of the subjects inside were suffering. An observer would be perplexed by this thought, seeing as a small handful of paintings seemed jolly and bright. She collected the paints she was going to use; blues and browns were her colors of choice, she wanted to paint a beach scene, darkened with a grey sky. 

Once she was satisfied with the image she had in her head, she grabbed a brush, and dipped it into the paints. Every painting never took the same amount of time to complete, some took a few hours,  and some took years, but each one was created with the utter most care and attention, the painter kept in mind of the customer's tastes. The woman smirked as the beach scene was coming to life on the canvas.

The ocean was a dark blue, waves crested with a grayish white. The sky was a depressive, dead grey, it was about to rain, but the clouds refused to give up it's water. A faded red boat was the only speck of color on the canvas, draped on the boat was a simple black trench coat. She added a couple more small details before she placed her brush down. The painter smiled at her work, and stood up from the canvas, she walked over to a sink located at the far end of the room, which had a small bar of soap and a rag that used to be white.

As she cleaned her hands a knocked came at the door. "It's opened." she called not even looking up from the sink. Stepping into the room was a young man, he looked quite sad, and lost. "I was told to come here." He muttered. He had a voice as quiet as ever. The painter looked over at him, and smiled. "Yes, welcome. Right on time, too." She commented as she dried her hands. The man shoved his hands into his pockets, and shrugged without saying a word. "Do you have any questions?" She asked walking over to the painting. The man looked at her hesitantly, but before he could open his mouth, she spoke. "I am indeed Lucifer." His response was a whimper, and he shrunk back a bit. "You aren't going to burn for all eternity, or carry rocks that get heavier and heavier. No." She chuckled, and shook her head. "That was gonna be Dante's hell. This is yours." She motioned to the beach scene, and the man shuttered. "Let's get going, I have other people to attend to." Lucifer stated growing slightly impatient. The man sighed, and slowly walked over to the painting. He gave Lucifer one last look before reaching out his hands, and touched the object.

Once the man was inside the painting, she picked up the canvas, and placed it on a blank space on the wall. She took one last look at it as she lit a cigarette, the man was now inside, and he was depicted sitting in the boat with a gun in his hands. He shot himself that day, but he didn't die instantly, instead he ended up bleeding to death, regretting his decision as he did so.

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Challenge of the Week #62: Tell us the story of Lucifer, where Lucifer is female. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by Cronando
The Painter
A bright white canvas sat ready to be used, the painter slowly pulled up a stool to the object while taking a drag of a cigarette. Once the stool was in place she took the cigarette from her mouth, and placed it in a rather used ash try. Ash was forced to the floor, but the woman didn't seem all that bothered by it, after all she had painting to paint.

The walls surrounding her were covered in various paintings of her design, some were quite detailed, while others were very plain, and ordinary looking. Each, painting however had it's own eerie feel to it. They not only seemed alive, but each of the subjects inside were suffering. An observer would be perplexed by this thought, seeing as a small handful of paintings seemed jolly and bright. She collected the paints she was going to use; blues and browns were her colors of choice, she wanted to paint a beach scene, darkened with a grey sky. 

Once she was satisfied with the image she had in her head, she grabbed a brush, and dipped it into the paints. Every painting never took the same amount of time to complete, some took a few hours,  and some took years, but each one was created with the utter most care and attention, the painter kept in mind of the customer's tastes. The woman smirked as the beach scene was coming to life on the canvas.

The ocean was a dark blue, waves crested with a grayish white. The sky was a depressive, dead grey, it was about to rain, but the clouds refused to give up it's water. A faded red boat was the only speck of color on the canvas, draped on the boat was a simple black trench coat. She added a couple more small details before she placed her brush down. The painter smiled at her work, and stood up from the canvas, she walked over to a sink located at the far end of the room, which had a small bar of soap and a rag that used to be white.

As she cleaned her hands a knocked came at the door. "It's opened." she called not even looking up from the sink. Stepping into the room was a young man, he looked quite sad, and lost. "I was told to come here." He muttered. He had a voice as quiet as ever. The painter looked over at him, and smiled. "Yes, welcome. Right on time, too." She commented as she dried her hands. The man shoved his hands into his pockets, and shrugged without saying a word. "Do you have any questions?" She asked walking over to the painting. The man looked at her hesitantly, but before he could open his mouth, she spoke. "I am indeed Lucifer." His response was a whimper, and he shrunk back a bit. "You aren't going to burn for all eternity, or carry rocks that get heavier and heavier. No." She chuckled, and shook her head. "That was gonna be Dante's hell. This is yours." She motioned to the beach scene, and the man shuttered. "Let's get going, I have other people to attend to." Lucifer stated growing slightly impatient. The man sighed, and slowly walked over to the painting. He gave Lucifer one last look before reaching out his hands, and touched the object.

Once the man was inside the painting, she picked up the canvas, and placed it on a blank space on the wall. She took one last look at it as she lit a cigarette, the man was now inside, and he was depicted sitting in the boat with a gun in his hands. He shot himself that day, but he didn't die instantly, instead he ended up bleeding to death, regretting his decision as he did so.
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Challenge of the Week #62: Tell us the story of Lucifer, where Lucifer is female. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by Elisabeth

THE MAKING OF DARKNESS

Lucifer:

What did I ever do to you,

That you cast me out of heaven? 

Angels:

Be quiet now and go to sleep

And pray that in this world up high

There will be mercy for the merciless

Lucifer:

Father, if you hear me, please

Tell me why the doors to your kingdom are closed

And why I'm forced to dwell in this eternal darkness

Angels:

Be quiet now and go to sleep

And hope that your dreams will not be merged

With the demons of the twilight that haunt your days

Lucifer:

Angels, go away;

Father, why do you not speak?

Do you not hear my suffering? Do you not see?

Angels:

Go away we will gladly.

You are not worthy of this realm, you are a stormy day in autumn

And the anger you carry with you proliferates and grows just like a cancer

Do you really think your father would think to answer

Words spoken with such a fury, such a temperament, such rage?

Lucifer:

Do not abandon me, God, I beg of you. I cannot bear this darkness, or this absence of the spoken word, or the wandering of the lost souls. I cannot bear the thoughts that quarrel in my mind, or the guilt; my skin feels inflamed with hatred, my hairs are electrified by fear, the doubt eats away from my heart. This is not living. How can you watch my suffering and not find mercy in your soul? 

Silence.

Lucifer:

Do not abandon me. I am just a woman now, I have fallen down; now I need you the most, God. If I have abandoned your ways it was not by choice, but by temptation. Please give me strength, father, as I call you in this darkest hour.

Silence.

Lucifer:

Oh, well, I gave you a chance, didn't I? I'll just have to make my own way again. Again. Goodbye, father.

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Juice
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Challenge of the Week #62: Tell us the story of Lucifer, where Lucifer is female. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by Elisabeth
THE MAKING OF DARKNESS
Lucifer:
What did I ever do to you,
That you cast me out of heaven? 

Angels:
Be quiet now and go to sleep
And pray that in this world up high
There will be mercy for the merciless

Lucifer:
Father, if you hear me, please
Tell me why the doors to your kingdom are closed
And why I'm forced to dwell in this eternal darkness

Angels:
Be quiet now and go to sleep
And hope that your dreams will not be merged
With the demons of the twilight that haunt your days

Lucifer:
Angels, go away;
Father, why do you not speak?
Do you not hear my suffering? Do you not see?

Angels:
Go away we will gladly.
You are not worthy of this realm, you are a stormy day in autumn
And the anger you carry with you proliferates and grows just like a cancer
Do you really think your father would think to answer
Words spoken with such a fury, such a temperament, such rage?

Lucifer:
Do not abandon me, God, I beg of you. I cannot bear this darkness, or this absence of the spoken word, or the wandering of the lost souls. I cannot bear the thoughts that quarrel in my mind, or the guilt; my skin feels inflamed with hatred, my hairs are electrified by fear, the doubt eats away from my heart. This is not living. How can you watch my suffering and not find mercy in your soul? 

Silence.

Lucifer:
Do not abandon me. I am just a woman now, I have fallen down; now I need you the most, God. If I have abandoned your ways it was not by choice, but by temptation. Please give me strength, father, as I call you in this darkest hour.

Silence.

Lucifer:
Oh, well, I gave you a chance, didn't I? I'll just have to make my own way again. Again. Goodbye, father.
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Juice
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Written by Mtrubenfire in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Lost

I lost myself in a dream

But you found me in your soul

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Written by Mtrubenfire in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Lost
I lost myself in a dream
But you found me in your soul
#romance  #poetry 
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Juice
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