“Cut the crap,” a pestering red devil on Alex’s left shoulder muttered violently.
“Those May morning waters can’t be these, dear boy.”
It may be a May morning when Alex soothes his toes, but definitely it was a May morning when Alex received baptism. The event of Alex’s baptism is recorded both in the church’s diary and Alex’s family Bible.
“All is one,” coyly stated the lovely linen white angel on Alex’s right shoulder. Though coy, the choir-toned voice had a hint of chiding, as always.
The idea “all is one” comes when a swamp rat feels soothed. The idea “all is one” is associated with goodness. This is why it is the lovely linen white angel who, in the bliss of Alex’s revival, cooing cloyingly, chimes “all is one”.
Alex felt a piercing pain in his big toe. He looked down. The skin on both feet had become shrivelly, as if he’d aged, these few blissful minutes, by nine or ten billion years.
His, now, were the feet of a very old man, swamp rat man.
“Ah ha ha ha ha,” chortled the red devil. “Gotcha!”
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