The Chalice

"A hurried conversation ensued, two men huddled outside of a rundown metaphysical chapel on a cold, windy night. There weren't many people about, only a few stragglers here and there in the distance, going back and forth, obeying the wind. A conversation began...

'There's something in the water. The belief without knowing is too strong. The obedience without thought is too rigid. What have we to do, Bryant?'

'There is naught else, Chester. We must abide. The soma of the masses is upon us. We must take it upon ourselves, and at this time."

'But why would one believe and obey? They are but tantrums that sundry us, nothing but catalytic forms of greed and starvation, lewdness and chastity, all at the same time. Dear Bryant, have you lost your nerve to that we must conquer?'

'No, for I am stolid. No, for I am strong. No, for the fact that I have two hearts instead of one. Do you not see that I am a man, a man who must obey and believe, as I have been told? They tell me to have strength, so I do. Surely, Chester, you would drink of this chalice, too?'

'Half-hearted I am, dear Bryant, for your strength has outweighed my own. This chalice is yours, and the cloudy water within as well. For I believe what I know, and I obey when I feel it. Bryant? Are you there?'

A strong gust blew past Chester, as he looked about for a sign of his comrade. Bryant was gone, lost suddenly to the darkness. The wind howled; Chester grimaced as he walked away. A rain started pouring, softly spattering off the statues beyond."