Reverend Conrad Phillips is in his fifties. his long time friend, the Major, had asked him to come to Mars a few years ago. He knows that religion is not on everyone's mind but he always tries to throw advice in whenever it's possible. The reverend doesn't represent any religion in particular, but has decided to wear the traditional black frock with white collar to maintain his belief to others that he has to look the part of a religious person.
“Have a seat Miss Morgan,” he gestured.
“Please call me Alice, Sir, I notice that you have a lot of old
books there, do you read them all?”
“As long as you don’t call me ‘Sir’, Reverend is fine. ‘Sir’ sounds like you are addressing the Major. As to the books, yes, they still give me inspiration. Old books are like old friends, I just can’t see reading them on fancy tablets. Some of these rituals go back a thousand years or more. Unfortunately most of these ceremonies have been discarded for a new way of thinking,” he said admiring one of them as he placed it on the bookshelf.
“Many still believe in the old ways, Reverend.”
“Yes, but the current sentiment, which changes direction with the prevailing politics or the Martian wind, is to take the easy way out, not marry, don’t discipline your children or our convicts, and who knows what else.
But I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable, I understand that it takes two to compromise.
“Now, I know why you are here, but tell me about yourself. In my business, knowing the background of everyone helps me further my endeavors to be a worthy guide,” he added as he sat down and offered her the
A two days in the life of Frederick the cat:
Frederick, twisted around, was grooming his back on the bed, when the door of Alice’s cabin suddenly opened, causing him to jump slightly.
“Oh, Frederick, you never guess in a million years…” Alice went on describing her talk with Manika and her encounter with Mike. Frederick only heard “blah, blah, blah, blah...,” and proceeded to continue his grooming since he didn’t hear the word ‘food’ or ‘kibble’ mentioned. He noticed that his mistress did not come over and scratch behind his ears like she usually does. She was sitting at her desk playing a machine that also went “blah, blah, blah.” So he jumped off the bed and onto the desk. Alice stretched out her left hand, but just quickly patted the top of his head, he didn’t like that.
I’m sorry, Freddy, but I got to get this done first while it is still fresh in my mind, then we’ll have a hot chocolate and treat time.”
Energized, Alice continued to transcribe her notes. Frederick decided to take his frustrations out on his squeaky mouse toy by a flying attack to the floor.