The smoke coalesced into a figure. Even before it had a recognizable face, it intoned, “Who summons me?”
The priest raised his hands in a gesture of respect and supplication. “We have, my Lord. The time has come for your return, and—”
“Oh, no, I’m not.”
“…my Lord? We—”
“I’m not coming back. Not to you people. Look at you, you’re awful, with the robes and the standing around chanting in dark basements in the middle of the night. Who does that? Where’s the party? Where’s the kids and the fireworks and the streamers? Where’s the joy? Nope, forget it.”
No comments:
Post a Comment