Right Church, Back Pew (Otherwise Untitled)
#159 of Short Stories
A basilisk slips in to nap during a sermon.
~ The temple lecture was a bit more than halfway complete when a basilisk, dripping wet with kerosene, slipped in the back doors of the long hall and tucked onto one of the rear pews. Everyone in the length of the hall gave some notice to the sound of the basilisk's entry, and pointedly ignored the odor once they'd realized the species of their guest.
~ The priest seemed to tolerate no delay between his sentences or moments for contemplation, the remainder of the lecture briskly paced to the summary conclusion. He went so far as to conclude the service while holding open on of the side doors at the front of the hall, allowing the worshipers to slip though without passing near the snoring intruder.
~ When the priest was alone with the echoes of snores and matte odor of kerosene, the rabbit approached the basilisk with a polite cough. A puddle of someone's blood had collected in the pew, during the faster half of the sermon, and the Priest offered, "May I help you?"
~ The guest carefully rolled upright, rummaging in a vest pocket before offering the rabbit a note. The paper seemed heavier in his hands, as though unfolding it were something that needed done at this moment and all others. The basilisk yawned curtly while the Priest read.
~ The rust colored page bore simple script in glimmering silver, "This basilisk has done me a favor. Be kind to her.", above the signature of the temple's deity emblazoned with the gold of the sun pouring down over winter's reaches.
~ The basilisk held her beak open in mimicry of a grin, offering a thumbs up gesture to the rabbit.