03-10-2020, 02:07 AM
He was a slow eater, tasting each spoonful as though evaluating the sensation of fullness following each one. There wasn’t much to do except listening and scooping bits of carrots, Vitamin A was important after all.
Of all the things that the Regus described, the words ancient past were the hardest to grapple. The past was a big place, full of all sorts of things. He frowned into the distance.
Remnants were mentioned in many of the ancient texts. People who survived great catastrophe, of which Israelites were the typical group, essentially half of the focus of the Old Testament. A number of verses came to mind, as well as any number of translations referenced. Which language was the inspiration for their survived remnant? Like Regus said, remnant of what was an interesting question.
He paused for another drink of water, following the story. Regus’ held a steady, pleasant voice. In another life, he may have made a decent orator. Nothing like Philip himself, of course, nobody came close to comparing to even his weakest monologues.
Then he said it, men and women using the power of God. Allegations of myth turned to reality didn’t impress him, then again, after the demonstration this afternoon, a speech was a letdown. His princely expression fell bland as the soup.
”Do I believe you?” he shrugged, glistening lips pursed thoughtfully. ”I have no reason not to, but it doesn’t matter. I have no reason to believe in God either.” The pause that followed wasn’t intended, but the haunting call within his own mind pulled at momentary intrusion. All men experienced mid-life crises; a priest was no different.
After a minute, he continued without declaring his belief in either. ”Very well, and who are the hunters? What ties them to the Church? To me?” He groaned to think of their confessions. How to absolve the decapitation of a monster was not the sort of thing he desired to contemplate.
Of all the things that the Regus described, the words ancient past were the hardest to grapple. The past was a big place, full of all sorts of things. He frowned into the distance.
Remnants were mentioned in many of the ancient texts. People who survived great catastrophe, of which Israelites were the typical group, essentially half of the focus of the Old Testament. A number of verses came to mind, as well as any number of translations referenced. Which language was the inspiration for their survived remnant? Like Regus said, remnant of what was an interesting question.
He paused for another drink of water, following the story. Regus’ held a steady, pleasant voice. In another life, he may have made a decent orator. Nothing like Philip himself, of course, nobody came close to comparing to even his weakest monologues.
Then he said it, men and women using the power of God. Allegations of myth turned to reality didn’t impress him, then again, after the demonstration this afternoon, a speech was a letdown. His princely expression fell bland as the soup.
”Do I believe you?” he shrugged, glistening lips pursed thoughtfully. ”I have no reason not to, but it doesn’t matter. I have no reason to believe in God either.” The pause that followed wasn’t intended, but the haunting call within his own mind pulled at momentary intrusion. All men experienced mid-life crises; a priest was no different.
After a minute, he continued without declaring his belief in either. ”Very well, and who are the hunters? What ties them to the Church? To me?” He groaned to think of their confessions. How to absolve the decapitation of a monster was not the sort of thing he desired to contemplate.
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