'It is the word of our God there will be no double checking' The stone faced Cardinal replied. Dipping his finger into the jar of ink on the desk before him- to the first bend. He looked into the eyes of the Wino.' Have you got any clue how disrespectful it is to revise these words? these are the words we live by. Without these words you are nothing, we are nothing. Do you suggest we shit on the prospect of our redemption? This is all there is.'
'But you've changed several-' The Wino began.
'I have changed nothing you waste!' The cardinal rose from his desk and bent over the portly- Monk, his finger dripping black.' I receive the very word of GOD YOU WASTE! I am a vessel- you are an ant. I have clarified you see. That is what you so dully mistake for change. Go to your quarters and wait. This will not be going unnoticed.'
The Wino turned without a word and exited. He hid his cowardly face until the door to his room was closed and promptly let fly the tears of his faith. A gesture to his God, he was sorry and dumb.
The Cardinal sat back in his chair and ran his finger across the parchment before him. The beginnings of a letter to the monks family. The draft was never finished- Just ended by his black trail. It was folded and sealed. The Cardinal used black wax and affixed a small black bow- beneath the wax as he pressed it on.
The Cardinal stood once more and gazed down the hall leading to his door. The black finger hung at his side.
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