This week’s words: impunity preacher grim evocative conspire clinch eastward humanely charcoal doorstep
The preacher had awoken early and as it was Sunday he had much to do before his first service of the morning.
His bedroom faced an eastward direction and on this particular morning the sun flowed in providing welcome warmth against the winter chill.
On his doorstep he found his morning milk and happy with that he proceeded to make his breakfast. Sundays were always a long day with services in his local church and this week he travelled to the outskirts of the region to conduct an evening service.
He didn’t like the evening service as the church he had to go to was far to progressive for his tastes. The church community didn’t want his fire and brimstone sermons, they wanted to sing and dance and their brand of service to him was evocative and he foresaw a grim future for this religious community who only needed him to consecrate the hosts. Their abandonment of ritual and their acting with religious impunity to a brand of church that to him was sinful only made him shudder at the thought of going out there.
He was sure they were conspiring to have him removed but there was no one else as preachers were a dying species. The nearest preacher was a four-hour drive away.
He was hopeful that a deal could be clinched with them and he wanted as humanly as possible to be a better source of guidance to them, though he doubted that as they tended to dismiss him at the end of each service as if he had served his purpose and they no longer needed him.
His tea had cooled in his cup and looking at the fire noticed the charcoals were no longer glowing. It was time to begin his day.