Three Voices
E-book
3,49 €
The Devil's in the Details
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- FormatePub
- ISBN8223493297
- EAN9798223493297
- Date de parution02/02/2024
- Protection num.pas de protection
- Infos supplémentairesepub
- ÉditeurDraft2Digital
Résumé
When a chance meeting with an old man leads to a captivating story, the author is swept into a journey through time and the paranormal. Starting in 1966 at Oxford College, the story follows a professor's pet project to uncover a message that spans all of written history-a message from the devil himself. He leaned forward, "Do you believe in God?"I swallowed hard. This was not really something we talked about, and unlike now being an atheist wasn't all the rage.
It was a personal thing."Professor?"He did not like my lack of answer."It's a simple question, young man. Do you believe in God? Or is what a little bird whispered in my ear untrue?"Before I could answer he slapped one of the piles. "...and I am wasting my time again."I struggled to answer him."I.. Well... What does... Well no."He smiled a satisfied smile and leaned back a little."Good. Good. This is a good start.
Honesty. Finally."He put his spectacles back on and opened up his calendar book to jot a note. He shoved a piece of paper across his desk and pointed at a line with his fountain pen. A rather large blot accumulated as he waited for me to take the pen. "Sign here."---I met Simon-not surprisingly-at a cafe. As I try to get out at an early hour and write, it seemed that our schedules matched-at least on Sundays.
He was a nicely dressed gentleman that had a story to tell...
It was a personal thing."Professor?"He did not like my lack of answer."It's a simple question, young man. Do you believe in God? Or is what a little bird whispered in my ear untrue?"Before I could answer he slapped one of the piles. "...and I am wasting my time again."I struggled to answer him."I.. Well... What does... Well no."He smiled a satisfied smile and leaned back a little."Good. Good. This is a good start.
Honesty. Finally."He put his spectacles back on and opened up his calendar book to jot a note. He shoved a piece of paper across his desk and pointed at a line with his fountain pen. A rather large blot accumulated as he waited for me to take the pen. "Sign here."---I met Simon-not surprisingly-at a cafe. As I try to get out at an early hour and write, it seemed that our schedules matched-at least on Sundays.
He was a nicely dressed gentleman that had a story to tell...
When a chance meeting with an old man leads to a captivating story, the author is swept into a journey through time and the paranormal. Starting in 1966 at Oxford College, the story follows a professor's pet project to uncover a message that spans all of written history-a message from the devil himself. He leaned forward, "Do you believe in God?"I swallowed hard. This was not really something we talked about, and unlike now being an atheist wasn't all the rage.
It was a personal thing."Professor?"He did not like my lack of answer."It's a simple question, young man. Do you believe in God? Or is what a little bird whispered in my ear untrue?"Before I could answer he slapped one of the piles. "...and I am wasting my time again."I struggled to answer him."I.. Well... What does... Well no."He smiled a satisfied smile and leaned back a little."Good. Good. This is a good start.
Honesty. Finally."He put his spectacles back on and opened up his calendar book to jot a note. He shoved a piece of paper across his desk and pointed at a line with his fountain pen. A rather large blot accumulated as he waited for me to take the pen. "Sign here."---I met Simon-not surprisingly-at a cafe. As I try to get out at an early hour and write, it seemed that our schedules matched-at least on Sundays.
He was a nicely dressed gentleman that had a story to tell...
It was a personal thing."Professor?"He did not like my lack of answer."It's a simple question, young man. Do you believe in God? Or is what a little bird whispered in my ear untrue?"Before I could answer he slapped one of the piles. "...and I am wasting my time again."I struggled to answer him."I.. Well... What does... Well no."He smiled a satisfied smile and leaned back a little."Good. Good. This is a good start.
Honesty. Finally."He put his spectacles back on and opened up his calendar book to jot a note. He shoved a piece of paper across his desk and pointed at a line with his fountain pen. A rather large blot accumulated as he waited for me to take the pen. "Sign here."---I met Simon-not surprisingly-at a cafe. As I try to get out at an early hour and write, it seemed that our schedules matched-at least on Sundays.
He was a nicely dressed gentleman that had a story to tell...
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