[ And she doesn't know about you, Kevin Cecil, but for Rena Lanford, there is, in fact, always time for praying during an alien raid.
With hands clasped, head bowed, in the same way the good chaplain ever did teach the children of Arlia, born and found alike, she closes her eyes, and calls out within herself, over and over, that lone, sufficient word--- please-- and lays hands on the wound.
The answer comes, as always, in light.
Even Kevin, turned away, might feel a ghost of its warmth wash over him from behind, see it illuminate the shadows cast by the walls on either side of them in a flaring glow-- comforting, bright, pure-- that holds, for a heartbeat, two, before ebbing again. ]
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With hands clasped, head bowed, in the same way the good chaplain ever did teach the children of Arlia, born and found alike, she closes her eyes, and calls out within herself, over and over, that lone, sufficient word--- please-- and lays hands on the wound.
The answer comes, as always, in light.
Even Kevin, turned away, might feel a ghost of its warmth wash over him from behind, see it illuminate the shadows cast by the walls on either side of them in a flaring glow-- comforting, bright, pure-- that holds, for a heartbeat, two, before ebbing again. ]