The evening's prayers and hymns had been made and his meetings done with; Gideon was going through the process of closing the temple: folding each altar cloth, extinguishing the candles, polishing the golden and silver ornaments. He liked the ritual of it all, the way the task was the same every day; it gave him a chance to think and reflect during the work, to really absorb the atmosphere of the temple in it's quiet period.
When all was done, the temple dark except for the final few lights by the doors and the windows shuttered until the next morning, he reached into his robe to pull out the small metal flask that always sat there, secretly in an internal pocket. Gideon had barely even gotten a sip of the burning liquor within when the sound of one of the side doors opening made him scramble to put it away, a drop on the floor covered up with his foot.
Turning to see who had approached (sure they hadn't seen, but wary in case they had), he adapted the posture of a good, innocent priest. Hands behind his back, body tall and straight. "Good evening; the temple services are over for the day, but you're welcome to stay for prayer."
When all was done, the temple dark except for the final few lights by the doors and the windows shuttered until the next morning, he reached into his robe to pull out the small metal flask that always sat there, secretly in an internal pocket. Gideon had barely even gotten a sip of the burning liquor within when the sound of one of the side doors opening made him scramble to put it away, a drop on the floor covered up with his foot.
Turning to see who had approached (sure they hadn't seen, but wary in case they had), he adapted the posture of a good, innocent priest. Hands behind his back, body tall and straight. "Good evening; the temple services are over for the day, but you're welcome to stay for prayer."
GIDEON
You claim to be virtuous, but you're a liar
And you'll feel the heat of the flames
And you'll feel the heat of the flames
