the dance of the ink riddled fingers

that historical misfire

Posted in handfuls of ambition, heroes of mine by enisea on 07/08/2013

This harassment had exceeded a month. The boy had merely inquired of the situation and the reward. But since the response from the army had been so dry and the tension so taught, even slight words had reached the king, reverberating like the slight pluck of a harp string.  Anyone who had inclined anything resembling interest concerning the battle was quickly relayed to the King…  And in his desperation, the King sent for a boy.  Something in him wondering if a simple boy might bring something of a fresh perspective to the battle lines.

On arrival, the king soon found the rumours true – that this boy had a strange arrogance about him that gave him a ridiculous confidence – almost offending him.  However, the kid spoke of an impressive first two fights.  So the king, in his delirium about the loosing battle, let him go his way. He almost humoured himself, that of all the grown men with different strategies, a boy had the most confidence.  Alas, to the despair of the rest of the army, he sent the boy.

Between first hearing the overwhelming challenge and being summoned by the king, the boy had thought a thing or two through regarding battle strategy.  Both his previous opponents had been stronger, bigger and fiercer than him – yet he had still prevailed.  He was keenly aware of what elements offered advantage and his cunning had taught him to eliminate the others’ before they were used.  The most vulnerable and valuable sense for most fighters (often taken for granted) was that of sight.  The boy knew he would be greatly helped by blinding any opposition.  Other than that he relied on his accuracy and speed – he mostly used the strength of others against them.  But this was the most threatening of enemies yet.

He had just fitted and unfitted himself with the King’s armour – which when worn had completely stripped him of all his strengths.  He was better without it.  He politely declined the king’s helpless gesture. Now the giant man approached him with scoffing and ridicule.  The words didn’t phase him, he’d grown accustomed to such reproach from his older brothers.  It was merely when his God was mocked that he was filled with fire.  The brute came with heavy thuds, clanking armour, a wicked laugh and a roaring audience.  The boy heard only the throbbing of his own heartbeat in his ears.

He scooped up a good five stones within the next seven steps and had slipped them into his shepherd’s bag without needing to look at them.  And having believed wholeheartedly that the promises he’d been given had every reason to be fulfilled (and because his future depended on their being a nation to rule), there was everything to gain.

48So it was, when the Philistine arose and came and drew near to meet David, that David hurried and ran toward the army to meet the Philistine. 49Then David put his hand in his bag and took out a stone; and he slung it and struck the Philistine in his forehead, so that the stone sank into his forehead, and he fell on his face to the earth.

Though believing somehow that God would make the impossible possible, he could hardly believe it was that easy.

He had actually aimed for the giant’s eye… (but that part wasn’t recorded).

Based on a true story.

(I must admit I like the idea that God uses our misfires to hit His bulls eyes because what we aimed for was a little off anyway)

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