"Are you a religious man?"  The question took Sime aback, and he
looked up abruptly at the preacher sitting at the altar, his
head bowed in deep though, or perhaps prayer. Prayer interrupted
by an important question.  "What do you mean?" Sime asked,
almost defensively. His eyes narrowed as he searched for the
purpose of the question.  "I mean what I mean, simply put,
without bullshit...Lord forgive me..." He quickly added this
last bit. Andrew Frost may have been a preacher, but he still
had moments of slip ups. Speaking in that sort of a language
had, for the longest time, been one of those slip ups. The man
was nearing his elder years now, his once light brown hair
replaced with silver wisdom, and his eyes were old. So very old.
Within the last eight hours, he had received more wrinkles than
his many years prior put together.  "Am I religious?" asked
Sime, the burly, young construction worker asked, scratching at
his severely sweat laced head, his light blue eyes wide with the
surprise at such a question. H