Heretics book 3 - The Apocryphile Press

378 :: JOHN R. MABRY
The others were seated in choir and waited as Astrid
closed her eyes, relaxed her muscles, and meditated. After a
few moments, she pulled the blanket over her head and
began her gaze.
Dylan leaned into Susan and took her hand. She squeezed
reassuringly. He looked up and saw Terry and Brian almost
mirroring them in the opposite choir, hand-in-hand, looking
anxious.
Brian broke the silence. “I think we’re hoping for too
much, here.”
“Could be,” Dylan agreed, “but mah plan is to have faith
until it’s horrendously and irreparably shattered.”
“Okay, gang, I’m getting something,” said Astrid, her hips
wagging behind her.
“Whatcha see?” asked Terry. “And I don’t want to hear
anything about Brian’s anus.”
Brian’s eyebrows shot up and he wiggled in his seat, smiling.
The late afternoon light poured in through the chapel
windows, signaling a break in the rain.
Astrid wagged some more. “Okay, I don’t really understand
it, but here’s what I see. There’s an angel. I think he’s
the same one we were following last time. He’s unconscious,
in the gutter. Okay, guys, Swedenborg never mentioned a
homeless population in Heaven, but that’s exactly what this
guy looks like.”
Kat and Mikael appeared in the doorway to the living
room, their hair arrayed at shocking angles. “Well, someone’s
radiating,” Susan said. It was true, Dylan saw. Kat was
flushed, and even Mikael looked like he had actual red,
human blood in his veins for a change.
“Hi, Astrid,” Mikael called, a little too loud.
“I’m under a blanket, not down a mine shaft,” Astrid
reminded him. “And I think I’m also looking at the angel
Kat’s brother is in. Hi, Kat.”