Re: log: flower delivery - ella g/mason j
It was hard to say what the man sitting next to her might be a product of. He wasn't precisely the same as the entity she had met, or the one who had seduced her with talk of comforts between life and the grave, and an everlasting existence that could be proven to the starved eye. He had many faces, and he was capable of change. Certain other individuals in the firmament could not claim that.
More than that, though, he was sunk deep into the preacher, what was left of him. He had taken every imaginable shape in his time, from snake to charmer. He had changed his state from exalted to damned, and after that, the rest was simple. The best forms always held a truth, though, and the preacher was real. He had a beating heart and everything. Cut him open, and he would die. Settling neatly into the edges of flesh brought with it chinks in the armor, frailties. He couldn't have quit smoking just now if his ascent to heaven depended on it, for instance.
The creature she had met still shone with the light of paradise, marred and altered but never entirely put out. This man, too, once held God's light in his heart.
He asked about the player because he wanted to know, and he had his reasons for asking, knowing something about him, about where he was now, that she did not. He was satisfied with her answer. "No," he said. No, the player hadn't been around.
He smiled at her. "I have. Not for you." That might give her a little ease.
"You fond your knack again for growing things." He nodded to the burst of flowers, slowly scenting the room with thick fragrance.
He had an inclination, then, so he followed it. "Grow something no one else can have. Not the Catholics. Or the little folks in town. Something there's no need to share."