it sounds impossible but man, it's true, you are the bad seed of this town. [PRIVATE]
-There's an interesting room, up on the seventh floor. It's behind a very plain little door, tucked into a cul-de-sac, and it's a chapel. Nothing fancy, nothing beautiful or old-fashioned - just a small, modern room with wall-to-wall carpeting and fake-pine pews, and a little raised section at the front with a pulpit. There are windows, through which watery sunlight always streams, but looking beyond them there's just pale bright grayness. And, at the back, there are stands filled with various pamphlets.
Light finds a certain charisma in the place. It's so mundane, and he spends some time looking over the pamphlets - for various help lines, religious organizations, charities - and then, of course, picks up a Bible and thumbs through it.
He sighs and leans back a bit on his heels, looking around, wondering why this empty scene was stolen from some world and placed here. Wondering about the people who go into and out of rooms like this every day. How many of those so-called believers don't really think there's a God at all? How many of them are going through the motions?
Shallow, rotten, meaningless, small, flimsy, the words flicker through his mind, and with a look of vague disgust, he pushes open the door and leaves.
Now he strolls through the empty hallways, bored and restless, mind going over the options of where he can go next, to kill time, because that's all there is to do.-
Light finds a certain charisma in the place. It's so mundane, and he spends some time looking over the pamphlets - for various help lines, religious organizations, charities - and then, of course, picks up a Bible and thumbs through it.
He sighs and leans back a bit on his heels, looking around, wondering why this empty scene was stolen from some world and placed here. Wondering about the people who go into and out of rooms like this every day. How many of those so-called believers don't really think there's a God at all? How many of them are going through the motions?
Shallow, rotten, meaningless, small, flimsy, the words flicker through his mind, and with a look of vague disgust, he pushes open the door and leaves.
Now he strolls through the empty hallways, bored and restless, mind going over the options of where he can go next, to kill time, because that's all there is to do.-