02-06-2022, 10:55 PM
Malachi lifted his cup, allowing the rising steam to drift gently across his face. He should have asked Mrs. Higgins what sort of tea it was, he thought belatedly.
Our Lord drank with tax collectors and prostitutes, so I doubt there is much that would shock me.
What an interesting example to use -- there was a moment's strike of something more natural in his smile. That was the kind of priest that Malachi had always wanted to be: the kind that followed not only to the teachings of the church, but to the actions of God himself. Both had their uses, yes, but he quarreled less with heavenly rules than he did with the conventions of men.
"Projects?" repeated Malachi. He lowered his cup, so that he would not taste it out of habit and burn his tongue.
"What sort of projects?"
Our Lord drank with tax collectors and prostitutes, so I doubt there is much that would shock me.
What an interesting example to use -- there was a moment's strike of something more natural in his smile. That was the kind of priest that Malachi had always wanted to be: the kind that followed not only to the teachings of the church, but to the actions of God himself. Both had their uses, yes, but he quarreled less with heavenly rules than he did with the conventions of men.
"Projects?" repeated Malachi. He lowered his cup, so that he would not taste it out of habit and burn his tongue.
"What sort of projects?"
