Third Host: Excerpt, Ezra

April 2, 2008

Ezra let the phone ring. It was in the next room and a soft enough noise to loose against the soft sounds of flowing water. He sat in an open room, with a hardwood floor, on a small cushion. On one wall a rack of various weapons sat. Swords, a staff, two pole-arms, and a set of shorter blades. In another corner a battered old breastplate on a stand. And the large fountain across from it completes the simple well lit room.

Ezra himself sat in full lotus position, meditating. He wore a buttoned silk shirt, the top two buttons left loose, and slacks. His shoes and socks sat carefully next to the doorway into the room. Almost mocking the serenity of the surroundings, Ezra’s shadow writhed in place on the ground, movements not remotely matched to his calm stillness. Internally, he worked through his barriers. Slowly the shadow stilled.

Ezra held the stillness for a long stretch before finally sliding back to his feat. He frowned slightly and crossed toward the doorway. He pulled on his socks and shoes and crossed over to the phone, dialing his voice mail. He listened the message from Z, erased it and hung up the phone again, frown never quite leaving his face. Normally, he enjoyed hearing from Z. She had done some brilliant tattoo work for him to help contain the demon lurking inside him. Of course, normally she didn’t have any dealings with the other angels. Demons and angels. If only he had known how real such things were when he decided to do God’s work. Ezra smiled wistfully and went to pack his bags.

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