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The Angels Saga - Sword of Andorra - The Life of Damien
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Noahide
Nov 8, 2023, 6:10:21 PM11/8/23
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The Life of Damien
Obed and his wife were on the Androvon seashore, in a beach on the coast, not too far from Paradision. Little Damien, who had been born 2 years previously, was wandering around on the beach, with a beach hat on, a little plastic spade in his hand, suncream zinc pasted to his face.
'He looks the little trooper,' said Callodyn, sitting in the front of a tent on the beach, seated next to Boaz, Obed and his wife in the adjoining tent on the beach.
'He does,' replied Boaz. 'Like he's ready to take on life with hope and ambition.'
'Which is the point I guess,' replied Callodyn.
Ruth came out of the tent and sat down at their little fold up table, putting sandwiches on the table.
'Planned baby-making is certainly a thing people who want children undertake,' said Ruth. 'But to so deliberately manufacture a child and his life for such a specific purpose? Boaz, I am not sure what you are on about at times. I thought I knew you.'
'Sometimes drastic things need to be done, Ruthie. Things were becoming wild in some circles on biblical issues. Steps need to be taken,' replied Boaz.
'Oh, I understand. Not arguing at all. But the methodology of response. Crude, Boaz,' said Ruth.
'If that's what it takes to get the job done, so be it,' replied Boaz.
Damien wandered over to them. 'Grampa. Help me build a sandcastle,' said Damien.
'Sure, little one,' replied Boaz, who got to his feet and sat down in the sand, building a sandcastle with his grandson.
Ruth took a cigarette out of her pack of Winfields.
'So you smoke on holidays?' asked Callodyn.
'Only beach holidays,' said Ruth. 'We bought a carton of 24 packs before we left. Boaz will smoke about a pack. I'll smoke the other 23 for while we're here. He's not too bothered by them. He likes the rush on rare occasions.'
'This was organised a long time ago I guess?' queried Callodyn.
'I recall I've mentioned it to you a little on past beach holidays. It goes back to Boaz and my own initial discussions and smoking and drinking and things. The policies we would apply,' said Ruth.
'Wise enough,' replied Callodyn. He looked at little Damien. 'He has a bit of a destiny. Quelling the rage of beasts and messiah. Claiming a name for the kids messed up a bit by the Omen tirade. Bradlock loves to fuck with Damien's all over the globe.'
'Don't mention that devil,' said Ruth. 'As that Theophany says he's a varmint who rarely ever really learns a lesson. Israel has been plagued by Satan so long now it is frustrating. He never grows up.'
'There are reportedly improvements in attitudes in recent times,' said Callodyn. 'A lot of golfing and business and things. No real diabolical agendas as much anymore. Seems to be settling down somewhat and enjoying a more regular life.'
'I'll believe it when I see it,' replied Ruth. She looked at little Damien. 'He's like Jesse. Has his way about him. But quieter. More reserved.'
'Like the blood isn't in him,' said Callodyn.
Ruth looked at Callodyn. 'Boaz laboured in prayer on that point for the child.'
'It was sort of the point,' said Callodyn.
'Yes,' said Ruth, looking at the little one. 'It was.' She picked up a sandwich and nibbled on it. 'This holiday will be a record of course?'
'We have a lot of copyright available to us to chart this story out for the Life of Damien,' replied Callodyn. 'Each paragraph will be thought through and written carefully. We'll get the result we need.'
'Carefully planned,' said Ruth.
'Carefully planned,' replied Callodyn.
She puffed on her cigarette and looked at little Damien. 'He has a brave smile as well. Like one which is taking on the world.'
Callodyn nodded. 'He'll need it.'
'He'll need it indeed,' agreed Ruth. And the sun shone down, and Damien and Boaz continued building their castle, while the ocean washed up on the beach, and another relaxed day passed by on Androvon Continent, not that far from Paradision, in the world of Televere, also known as Televon.
The End
Obed and his wife were on the Androvon seashore, in a beach on the coast, not too far from Paradision. Little Damien, who had been born 2 years previously, was wandering around on the beach, with a beach hat on, a little plastic spade in his hand, suncream zinc pasted to his face.
'He looks the little trooper,' said Callodyn, sitting in the front of a tent on the beach, seated next to Boaz, Obed and his wife in the adjoining tent on the beach.
'He does,' replied Boaz. 'Like he's ready to take on life with hope and ambition.'
'Which is the point I guess,' replied Callodyn.
Ruth came out of the tent and sat down at their little fold up table, putting sandwiches on the table.
'Planned baby-making is certainly a thing people who want children undertake,' said Ruth. 'But to so deliberately manufacture a child and his life for such a specific purpose? Boaz, I am not sure what you are on about at times. I thought I knew you.'
'Sometimes drastic things need to be done, Ruthie. Things were becoming wild in some circles on biblical issues. Steps need to be taken,' replied Boaz.
'Oh, I understand. Not arguing at all. But the methodology of response. Crude, Boaz,' said Ruth.
'If that's what it takes to get the job done, so be it,' replied Boaz.
Damien wandered over to them. 'Grampa. Help me build a sandcastle,' said Damien.
'Sure, little one,' replied Boaz, who got to his feet and sat down in the sand, building a sandcastle with his grandson.
Ruth took a cigarette out of her pack of Winfields.
'So you smoke on holidays?' asked Callodyn.
'Only beach holidays,' said Ruth. 'We bought a carton of 24 packs before we left. Boaz will smoke about a pack. I'll smoke the other 23 for while we're here. He's not too bothered by them. He likes the rush on rare occasions.'
'This was organised a long time ago I guess?' queried Callodyn.
'I recall I've mentioned it to you a little on past beach holidays. It goes back to Boaz and my own initial discussions and smoking and drinking and things. The policies we would apply,' said Ruth.
'Wise enough,' replied Callodyn. He looked at little Damien. 'He has a bit of a destiny. Quelling the rage of beasts and messiah. Claiming a name for the kids messed up a bit by the Omen tirade. Bradlock loves to fuck with Damien's all over the globe.'
'Don't mention that devil,' said Ruth. 'As that Theophany says he's a varmint who rarely ever really learns a lesson. Israel has been plagued by Satan so long now it is frustrating. He never grows up.'
'There are reportedly improvements in attitudes in recent times,' said Callodyn. 'A lot of golfing and business and things. No real diabolical agendas as much anymore. Seems to be settling down somewhat and enjoying a more regular life.'
'I'll believe it when I see it,' replied Ruth. She looked at little Damien. 'He's like Jesse. Has his way about him. But quieter. More reserved.'
'Like the blood isn't in him,' said Callodyn.
Ruth looked at Callodyn. 'Boaz laboured in prayer on that point for the child.'
'It was sort of the point,' said Callodyn.
'Yes,' said Ruth, looking at the little one. 'It was.' She picked up a sandwich and nibbled on it. 'This holiday will be a record of course?'
'We have a lot of copyright available to us to chart this story out for the Life of Damien,' replied Callodyn. 'Each paragraph will be thought through and written carefully. We'll get the result we need.'
'Carefully planned,' said Ruth.
'Carefully planned,' replied Callodyn.
She puffed on her cigarette and looked at little Damien. 'He has a brave smile as well. Like one which is taking on the world.'
Callodyn nodded. 'He'll need it.'
'He'll need it indeed,' agreed Ruth. And the sun shone down, and Damien and Boaz continued building their castle, while the ocean washed up on the beach, and another relaxed day passed by on Androvon Continent, not that far from Paradision, in the world of Televere, also known as Televon.
The End
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