34 - The Preacher and the Thug

Atlanta. Georgia. USA.

"If you have something to give, give! If you have something to lose, lose! If you have something to take, take! There's nothing much left to be held unto. No long period for decisions. Whatever decision you would make should be the best thing you should think of. Time had been crushed and the orders of things had been smothered. Only the pure in heart would see the son. Come to the sun today. Follow his path. Do all he had said. If you know not what, come to me. Come, I'll give you rest. He had said. Make a cling. Make a cling. Be a client. His client."

The man dressed in a caftan stopped talking. He was sweating profusely and was standing at a spot where several roads met.

The place was very rowdy and crowdy and you could easily tell that he was doing his best trying to put across the unpaid messages he was giving.

His handkerchief had metamorphosed. What used to be a white was a dark grey then and dripping pools of his sweat.

His eyes were running to and fro as well as his heart. He wasn't unkept by you could tell from his choice of dressing that he didn't give a damn about the Human's civilization and modernism.

He was a preacher.

There was a safehouse at the other street bordering where the preacher was standing.

He was making a bold call and his reasons were best known only to himself.

At first, you would think that he didn't want to share it but hell wrong.

His next round speeches let loose the trend,

"If I should, mortals. Though we all seek salvation. We seek what would save us from this danger. But how long can we seek. How long can our strength take us. Wouldn't we be weak. Wouldn't the felon flesh be crushed by the wiles of time? Wouldn't fate make its own scores? Come, and be saved. The salvation which even the safehouse would not give you."

As soon as the preacher stopped preaching, a man walked towards him and stood at his front.

Then a lady joined the man and on and on, many people started gathering before him.

The human generation has no choice any longer. They only want solutions. Whatever would give a solution was all they could think of. If you are giving, to hell with you.

The preacher now had a pitch to perch on. He said.

"Place you hands on your chest, brethren and repeat after me."

He said and one after the other, the fellows began to put their hands to their chests.

"Lord, the son. Please speak to the father on our behalf. We forsake our sins and run to you. Give us a reason to live with you and guide our spirit as well as our soul. Be with us, and preserve out soul even if our bodies perish. Have you way and be exhalted."

He stopped praying. Then again said,

"You can now go to the safehouses, your souls are secured."

"Are you kidding me?"

One of the men amongst the crowd called. He had forfeited his position amongst those who were queuing up for the safehouses.

If he hadn't come there, he would had gained an entrance into the safehouse. Now he would have to go join the queue from the very end.

He fought his way through the crowd, held the preacher in his collar and hurled hails of words,

"Unsay those words, undo the time or die."

The angry man spat, choking the man of God. Few other came to his aid.

"Let the man go. You came by choice."

A man said.

But commotion had been birthed before the preacher could fight himself free.

They could all die by the hue and cry, at least there souls are secured.