“A prophet’s job is never done.”
The words repeat themselves.
“A prophet’s job is never done.”
“A prophet’s job is never done.”
They grow louder and louder. The only way I can stop them is by doing it. I don’t like doing it.
Sometimes I think it’s the voice of God, telling me that it needs to be done again.
Sometimes I’m convinced it’s some demon tormenting me and he won’t stop untill I do it.
Most of the time, I just think I’m crazy. But even if that’s the case, I have to do it. I tried medication, it doesn’t help. The only thing that helps is doing it. If I don’t… Well let me tell you about the first time.
I had just sat down with my friends at a coffee-shop. But when the waitress came over to take our orders, the voice started.
“A prophet’s job is never done.”
“A prophet’s job is never done.”
At first it was a whisper. I managed to ignore it. But it grew…
That night was horrible. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t think. Somehow I knew I had to do it. I went to the coffee-shop and waited outside.