May 09, 2010 21:48
Ichabod had not only reached a point in his life where religion and science didn't seem to make any sense at all. One controverted the other and neither of them meshed well. He picked his findings apart, notes upon notes were taken and some were recollections of his mental accounts from what he's seen, heard and felt.
With his fingers running through his hair, he let out an exasperated sigh. It was his logical mind working overtime to figure out how it all fit in the grander scheme. The atheist was questioning everything. His own fate took a different twist. How was he to know where he fit in through all of the fabrics of time, reality and the metaphysical? A firm believer that the truth, however unseen, is a truth that still can be proven beyond the shadow of doubt and he was doubting himself as a man of reason.
His faith was shaken and fallen apart when he was only a child. Among the books he surrounded himself with at the library, the texts said only one common thing. The damned are proven damned by the darkness they possess. "Well, that seems rather vague," he said to himself. Eventually, he will give up his search to rest his weary mind.
He stretched in the chair and let out a yawn. The vast room nearly swallowed him whole. Going back home was not something he was ready for just yet.