The Sunday Whirl


“Sparrows” sit in silent stillness observing the hope on each bowed face as the man standing at the pulpit offers a map of promises from sacred text. The lack of sincerity is evident only to them; their aged minds hesitate to accept his kiss of oaths so long ago written on ancient parchment. After, as they gather away, the whisper of doubts are vast and they check old texts in secret. The vows taken have been smirched, and they summon proof to take action against the false speaker.



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