Everyone around the table was stunned by the account of Marlo’s encounter with the man she presumed to have been Kurt Graham. It was hard to believe any of it, but Marlo had too much credibility.
“Unchecked charisma, especially that belonging to a man with wounded pride, is a danger to everything and everyone,” Marlo said. “And that is why I am happy to be here with you, Leeland. Whatever it is that you are after, I hope that it does not put the whole of the world in danger. These people here with us,” she said and smiled at her colleagues, “are admirable people who are well compensated for dedication to good and trustworthy work. And you sit among them. Without good journalism, democracy is dead in the water.”
Azalaan understood the gravity of Marlo’s words and he nodded very solemnly as she spoke so that everyone could see and understand that this story of Kurt Graham had served as a proper deterrence from embracing extremism as a way to gain popularity.
In actuality, Azalaan knew that Kurt Graham was nothing at all. He had never been anything but an elaborate meat puppet. He would have to find this Sunday and he knew just how to do that; he only needed to track down Graham’s podcast.
Eventually, everyone left for the night, leaving Azalaan and Marlo alone at the table.
“So, you just left the church after you talked to Sunday? That was the end?”
Marlo looked at him curiously.
“There wasn’t much else to it. He said his peace and left. I’m sure I stayed a little while so he didn’t think I followed him, but…”
“Did he send you to find me?” Azalaan asked.
Marlo looked confused, but when Azalaan looked insistent on getting an answer to his question, a smile slowly spread over her mouth.
“Very good, Azalaan,” Marlo said with a look in her eyes that was not her own. She seemed to have been possessed, and her voice sounded much deeper. “Find me and I will show you who truly deserves to be called the Idiot God.”
“But I am currently the Idiot God,” Azalaan said with annoyance. “If you want it, shouldn’t you come find me?”
Marlo frowned, then said “I will end this world and there will be nothing left for you to rule.” Then she stood from the table and walked toward the exit. She collapsed dead before she left the bar.
Azalaan was troubled as he headed back to his dorm room. Could this Sunday really end his world?
“Fuck, now I gotta find this nigga!”
Azalaan, and Sunday, will return this summer in The Black Man Who Was Thursday!
PRL Serials 