Autumn Redeemer, Thy Day Cometh
Saul grumbled and rolled over. The clock blinked 3:34. Wasn’t it Bradbury that said this was the low tide, the ebb time for the soul? Damn the phone..
Saul’s head refused to clear. It took almost a full minute to identify the shaky voice.
“Sweet Christ its 3:30 in the morning, Wes.. What the hell do you want?”
“This world makes we me weary, Saul. It eats at my heart that the authorities spend thousands of dollars and man hours to find a missing girl, to amass evidence against her deadbeat husband, resources wasted on other people’s rampant evil..”
“Aww jeeze Wes, not this again. We’ve been through all that. The world is not basically good. Of course it’s gonna get worse. Look, let’s go out tomorrow and get a drink.. We’ll talk abo..”
Saul bit his tongue, the sleep snapped from his mind by the tone and force.
“I’m going to do something about it, Saul. I’m going to fix it. I’m going to.”
“Wes, you can’t..”
“Do it by myself? Yes, I can. And I will. Watch the news, Saul. You’ll see.”