“Please cut to the chase, Father. We’re on borrowed time.” I had to stop the man before he has a chance to talk us into another vicious cycle.“Aren’t we all?” He protested. “Catholics! Always in a rush to get to the truth but having no heart or stomach for it once it caught up with them. Right, Rosabel?”
Nobody is fast enough to respond once the old priest set himself to launch some verbal attacks. He’s on a mission. “I see you’re back to being a statue again. Fortunately, that is also one fetish I would never pass on.”
There is no helping the man. I know it for a fact now that the reverend became a priest to sustain a habit. The sermon being a monologue, he has been given a free rein to indulge on it and has been assured of an audience to receive it.
“How do I use the Holy Grail, father?” I have to interrupt.
“Ah, the Holy Grail! Right…right.” He responded, obviously irked, as he pulled out a book from one of the shelves. “Not quite as easy as using a dildo you reckon.”
He uttered the nth blasphemy with not one god putting a curse on him. Or maybe one already had. I kept mum. Rosabel did too, believing silence is wisdom.
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