💾 Archived View for republic.circumlunar.space › users › joneworlds › 2021-09-03-angels.gmi captured on 2021-12-03 at 14:04:38. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
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The other night I'm writing in my book, sitting in the cabin on my cot. And Ami comes in and lies down on theirs, stares at the ceiling for a minute, and then rolls on their side to face me. Their eyes are closed, and they say, "Tomorrow, I will be meeting the angels." And to hear that said so level, so neutral, like how they'd say the beans at supper were under-cooked, well it kind of froze me up for a minute. Finally I'm going to say something, but Ami rolls over to the wall and I hear they're asleep.
In the morning, their cot is smooth and perfectly made, and Ami is gone. Never seen them again since. And the others, they all just sort of shrug if I ask about it. This place, there's new people every so often like me. But even in my short time here I notice there's people I don't see after a while. It's like we're always about an even hundred or so. Maybe exactly that.
You know I'm grateful for them somehow curing whatever was ailing me a few weeks back there, but I still got my doubts about this cult. There's lots of weird stuff. My turn at three-day burying is coming up soon. That's important, and our whole deal revolves around it. I'm studying up and doing my homework, but I still don't quite get how it works. And there's lots of other baffling stuff. Like for instance, I don't care how much the senior leaders insist that it's all a vital part of our mission to save the world's freshwater: the mandatory hand jobs we all got to take turns giving them, that's such a pile of crap. And I'm getting pretty sick of it.