Pool_2

act against any one he knew let alone a woman. It was a matter of reflex. It went against his truce. "Truce?" "In a lonely shack on a dark beach, looking at both the stars and at distant flickers of lights across a bay bathed in the black of night, and seeing no difference between heaven and the earth so shrouded, McGuiness decided on a truce with God. Only in salvation was there a chance of reunion with his beloved Katharine. But he was torn. He grappled with the lore of Archangel Michael, scales of justice in one hand and sword in the other. But that was God's angel. "Shannon, where's this going? HMO's connected to Price are smearing us and you are telling me about a poet's vision of angels?" "Shit! Just listen. He needed to know. What was HIS purpose? Peace? Or God's work? Was he, as a mere mortal, damned? Or was he God's avenging angel. Michael was precedent. Was he, like Michael, in God's employ, as he put it, imbattelld Seraphim to Warr in dreadful deeds against the wrong and irreconcileable grand Foe? But maybe there was a sign, the one he sought so desperately, given to him right up front? Was he told explicitly what his direction ought to be? Were they the words of God upon her lips, his Catlyn, as her last? Not thecome a bitter man? The very possibility of that was his consumption. Could he ever just stand by? Which was sin? Acting or looking away? His soul was on auction. He said that Price was aptly named. He suspended his deal with God." Actually in his writings McGuines aserted that he wasn't going to just stand there and watch God sit on His celestial ass while people he loved were hurt. He elaborated, God is light, so it falls upon me to keep the shadows clean. Thinking that maybe she had just sparked out, "Shannon, you are scaring me