Rev

“Lazy”, the Reverend thought as he looked out over his “flock”. He wasn’t a real reverend, of course, but he had grown accustomed to the nickname granted to him all those years ago. Yes, on the surface he claimed to hate it, twisting his features into a annoyed scowl whenever anyone referred to him as such, but inwardly he delighted. There was something very amusing of people looking on him as some sort of icon of piety. But also it made him think of how easy it had been for people to think of him in that way. No drinking. No smoking. No foul language. Was that really all it took these days to be a Holy Man? Had we really lowered the bar that much?

The “flock” he had accumulated were idle, as ever. Standing around waiting for “The Word”. And what truth would satisfy them today, the Reverend mused. What path do I put them on, these people who are so willing to listen, so willing to believe? I do not drink, I do not smoke. I do not swear. And because of this, I give them hope. Because of this, they will follow me wherever I go, and believe whatever I tell them. And when I do not tell them where to follow, when I do not tell them what to do… they go nowhere, and they do nothing.

And because of this–not entirely because of this, but certainly partly because of this–he hesitated. No, it was not merely the fact that he had their undying faith.

It was the fact that he was starting to suspect that he deserved it.