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We did We got her there

Did they exaonna like it, friar

My liking it is beside the point

She’s got a disease A hereditary one It’s in her blood That’s why the slugs don’t bother with her She’s already half dead

Ignatius nods and snly at the horizon

So what’s bestowed on her, Moses continues, it ain’t a blessing

Ignatius shrugs

Disease or blessing, who can say? he asks If a disease helps you survive in the world, then it’s no longer a disease but an adaptation Evolution would tell you as much

But it’s irl, she ain’t a holy woman She put on pretences

I know that, too I never saw her other pretences – but the one she put on here was a righteous one, so I pretended along with her So it Soain faith Do you believe that?

I don’t know I don’t believe in nothin right now

See, now there’s a pretence you just uttered Do you say it because you wish it were true? Because you would try to incant it?

I won’t spar with you, says Moses as he raises his hands in surrender and sently, on the field of philosophy

I would be a fool, my friend, to spar with you on any other

They are quiet for a time Then sun is low on the horizon now, the sky lit up all shock red and streaky white

Then Moses speaks, this tih his words were really meant for the wind to carry them away

She sacrificed herself, friar Not her life, but in another way She said it was for me

Do you believe her?

I didn’t, not when she told ht – I thought she ht be here Now I don’t knohat

You suspect she was in love with you?

Moses does not respond His eyes are gone far out over the horizon