<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>

“Well?”

The man stands by the car door, bracing himself against it with a hand against the mirror. He is silent, pouting at either the priest or the church, but most likely both.

“Oh--gosh. Sorry,” says the priest, making his way back to the car. “Forget my own head next. Come on, it’s just a few feet. You can sit down when you’re inside--”

“--no.” says the man. “Leg doesn’t hurt.” He looks down at his cat, who is currently preoccupied with meowing obnoxiously at five second intervals. “Jack won’t go in there. I can’t go in if he can’t.”
The priest begins to feel a tic coming on, and he waits for his cheek to stop twitching before asking what he feels to be a very stupid question. “Is this about the demon cat.”

“Sorry, mister.”

The priest half laughs, half sobs, and rubs at his eyes.“I suppose he’d combust the moment he walked in.”

The man doesn’t respond and instead directs all of his attention towards the cat.

“Look, I can’t just leave you out here; you need to at least get that leg looked at. Besides, they’ll help you get in touch with--anyone you know that could help you get back home.” More silence, and he becomes exasperated. “It’ll probably only be a few days.”

“Jack says he doesn’t know if he’ll blow up for sure, but he says he will probably blow up.”

“… were you listening to me?”

“I can’t listen to two people at once.”

The priest pinches the bridge of his nose, imagines that he can feel his sinuses being crushed. “Come in for a bit while I talk to someone.”