“Is he God?” Allsion asked Victor. “Did you see how he reached up and grabbed a sunbeam from the sun and held it between his thumb and forefinger? He must be God.”
“No, he’s not God, Allison,” Victor said. “It’s a parlor trick. He’s a cheap magician. He probably has some little bulb in his hand that lights up when he presses something down.”
“No!” Allison said definitely. “It wasn’t a trick. He grabbed the light right out of the sky and captured it in his hand. I saw it with my own eyes.”
“Allison,” Victor said, “You’re being naïve. He’s a con man. He’s selling you and everyone here bottles of snake oil.”
“That’s not true,” Allison insisted. “He promised that if we follow him, he’ll lead us to a better life. I believe him.”
“It’s all bullshit….” But before Victor could finish speaking, the cups were being handed out to everyone assembled.
“Now everyone drink the Kool-Aid,” Reverend Jones said, “and you, too, will see God, just as I already do.”
Written for this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers from Priceless Joy. Photo credit: Goroyboy.