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After my very first write-up, I received a message from someone claiming to be a god or something. Or perhaps in my enthusiasm, I misunderstood the request.


Here's what I added and got no response:


It was a dark and stormy night. I was completely naked, dripping wet from a midnight swim in the forbidden lake.


Legend has it that many a poor soul found their final resting place in that cool, murky reservoir. By day, picnicking families with children would enjoy the natural beauty.


Men and boys and Girl Scouts would happily rowboat or canoe. Some of them even tried fishing, catching small wriggling sunfish.


Bus loads of city children would descend one day a week, shrieking at the new, cold, wet experience. Of course, they eventually threw rocks and handfuls of trucked-in sand. The young lifeguards would try admonishing them, but it was no use.


(P.S. I plan to read this aloud in church next Sunday. Do you think that's a good idea?)


To his credit, he replied to three other messages from me two months later about his own writing regarding whatever I said and was quite nice.


IN

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