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The Almighty Hand
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TITLE (EDIT)
The Almighty Hand
DESCRIPTION
A humerous short story written. It asks the question of "Who is really playing God?"
[1,066 words]
TITLE KEYWORD
Comedy
AUTHOR
Kylan Masters
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kylan has been writing for the majority of his life. After winning some literature contests in grade school, writing became a hobby that he carried with him. During college, some of his essays were used for a Creative Writing text book, and since then he has pursued writing in a more professional area.
Kylan currently lives in Fond du Lac, WI, where he works full time as a Radio DJ and website designer. During his free time, besides literature, Kylan enjoys drawing, the martial arts and football.
[August 2002]
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
[email protected]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (5)
Mac-Man (Essays) A humerous essay written on how to pick-up women. [990 words] [Comedy]
Picture In Picture (Poetry) A man trying to decide what is real, what is not and if he can wait for the real answers. [147 words]
The Best Friend (Essays) I wrote this essay because so many guys came to me and said that they had these best friends that they felt this great connection with and wondered why it couldn’t be something more. I realized that ... [1,429 words]
The Out-Path, In (Poetry) Sometimes one has to travel through the storm to find the sunshine. [262 words]
The Window (Poetry) A poem written for those hoping for the courage to do what may seem tough to handle. [222 words] [Romance]
The Almighty Hand
Kylan Masters



The sun was hot.  That was the most simplistic way to state the obvious.

	The light shone onto the stretch of beach making the sand glitter like a blanket of 
diamonds.  The heat from the sun made a hazy mist rise from the surface of the water.  It 
almost seemed too hot for noise, and except for the stray buzz of a horse fly, the only 
sounds came from surf softly cresting against the beach.

	The heated silence would not last long as flurry of limbs came streaking through.  
His name was Jake and he was a ten-year-old poised for a sunny day of enjoyment.  His 
skin glistened with a freshly applied layer of sunscreen.  The trunks that hung around his 
waist looked immensely large on his skinny frame, as though he were swimming in a sea 
of red, swishy fabric.  

A toothy grin flashed across Jake’s face as he made a beeline towards the 
shimmer of water.  His feet hit the murky part of the beach, the part where the water 
covered the sand every few seconds causing a soft mixture of mud, and he stopped, 
twisting his body back towards his mother.  She sat the outdoor patio of the white 
trimmed cabin.  In her right hand, she held a paperback book she would be reading for 
the next few hours.  With her left hand she motioned that it was ok for Jake to enter the 
water.

After testing the temperature of the water with his left foot, Jake took to the water 
like a fish returning home.  His cheeks bulged outward, his breath held in, as he dove 
under the emerald green surface.  Jake’s legs kicked in an awkward, frog-like motion.  
His arms gathered the waves and he resurfaced.  His hair sent up little droplets of water 
that hung in the air for just a moment, before crashing back to the froth below.

He dove, he kicked, he jumped, he twirled, he splashed, and he tired.  Soon, even 
the water was heated by the sun beating onto it.  Jake pulled his gangly limps out of the 
water, leaving a tripping trail as he walked to a section of the beach that was covered with 
shade due to an overhanging tree.  His toes dug into the soft, wet sand.  Letting out a 
small sigh, he spun around and sat himself down, leaning against the tree to catch his 
breath.

Jake tilted his head back, his wet strangle of hair crunched up against the bark of 
the tree.  His eyes focused on a few of the leaves that hung above his head as his hand fell 
onto the sand below him.  His fingers dug into the wet footing, feeling it squish into the 
palm of his hand.  An idea hit him and almost immediately he was back on his feet.  Jake 
got his limbs into motion, skittering off towards the cabin.

On the porch, his mother gave him a questioning glance.  Jake grabbed a sand 
crusted shovel and bucket.  He flashed that same toothy grin and whirled back toward the 
soft sand underneath the tree.

The child under the tree turned into a whirlwind.  His bucket and shovel flew into 
action.  His feet ran in frantic circles as he fought through his work.  Sand flew and water
 was thrown into wide, arcing paths through the air.  Treacherously long ditches were dug 
in square patterns, and mounds of packed mud, dirt and sand were formed.  Trees were 
robbed for their branches, the beach was robbed for its stones and mom was robbed for 
her little American flag.

After seemingly hours of toil and strife, Jake was done.  He wiped the sweat off 
his brow and stared first at the sky that was clouding over.  Then he looked down to the 
shaded area of the beach.  There stood one of the most magnificent structures to ever 
grace the face of God’s green earth: Jake’s sand castle.  

Calling it just a sand castle would never do it justice though.  It was a sand 
society.  There was a town center, suburbs, rivers running through lush farmlands, a mass 
transit system, people hustling to their jobs and even a playground filled with children 
outside the elementary school.  Jake’s grin shot out once again as he looked at his society, 
his own world that he had created, and he was now the ruler of.  And it was good.

Jake began ruling over his creation.  “I am your ruler,” he would proclaim as he 
decided that part of the suburbs would be made into a new shopping complex.  
Unfortunately one of the workers was killed in the construction.  Jake snickered at his 
power.

A flood roared through the elementary school, claiming the lives of hundreds of 
innocents.  Jake even believed that a possibility for a meteor shower was imminent.  He
 planned out his creations very existence until he was interrupted.

	“Jake, start packing up your toys,” his mom yelled at him.  “It’s going to rain very 
soon.”  Jake glanced upward at the ominous black clouds rolling in from the distance.  He 
barely acknowledged his mother’s remark and instead turned back to his world.  

	A sudden earthquake shook part of the downtown area, causing numerous 
buildings to crumble in a heap of debris and rubble.  Jake let out a sinister laugh from his 
chest.

	“I am your God!” he yelled.  “I decide who lives and dies.  I decide what happens 
to your very existence.  If it weren’t for me, you would not exist.  Therefore, only I have 
the power to take your existence away!”  Jake raised his foot to erase another building.

	Almost on cue, a lightning bolt struck in the distance.  The rumbling sound 
signaled the onslaught of a downpour.  The sky unleashed a torrent of rain that crashed 
onto the beach.  In mere seconds, Jake’s society washed into the beach.  Bullets of rain 
tore at the buildings and left nothing more than a stretch of beach and sand that looked no 
different than the rest of the coast.  

	Jake ran towards his cabin away from the rain.  He looked to where his society 
used to stand and noticed nothing but the remnants of what used to be his glorious 
creation.  Rivulets of water had begun to run towards the lake, tearing into the very 
foundation of where the civilization used to stand.  

	Jake could have sworn that he heard the rain snicker.


 

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2001 Kylan Masters
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
August 2002
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1972
 

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