《Pilgrim》3 AM Waffles

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Sam ate another bite of bacon from his syrup-soaked plate.

It was raining outside of the diner that he wandered off to after his eventful night. He honestly could not believe everything that had transpired in the past few days. Meeting an otherworldly creature in Evangelos, gaining supernatural abilities, fighting off attackers. Now to add to his list, he had even preached a sermon. Out of everything that had happened, that nearly seemed the most unlikely, as he never saw himself completely following in Eli's footsteps.

And yet, here we are...

He sliced off another bite of his gooey waffle, that had perhaps been overly soaked in butter and syrup.

Sam had never been to this diner, but it was his only option tonight. After all, not many places are open at 3 AM.

After preaching his heart out for over an hour, quoting probably every bit of Scripture that Eli had ever taught him, and sharing everything that he felt led to, the crowd quietly retired from their angel-hunt and went back to their homes. A few lives were changed, Sam thought. Some of the crowd had prayed at the altar near the front of the sanctuary. Some probably prayed for protection, some maybe for strength and courage in the dark times of their lives. A few, he thought, had even met Jesus that night. He did share with them the “Roman Road to Salvation,” after all, just as Pastor Eli would have done. Maybe some good was trying to come from the tragedies in Sam's life, like a flower trying to grow though a crack in the pavement.

He never told them that he was this 'Pilgrim.' It was not because he meant to mislead them, but because he did not feel like this was the right time. He felt that, perhaps, the right time would reveal itself, in the same way that God had shared this ability with him.

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Sam looked around the diner. It was cold in here, he thought. Maybe it was from being away from home at such an odd time that was making his body miss the warmth of home and his bed. He was the only patron left, it seemed. Lights flickered on and off over head. The cook stepped outside for a smoke break, and had fallen asleep with his head reclined against his hand.

Before Sam could feel too alone, lightning struck a nearby building, and thunder crackled in the pouring rain, causing him to jolt back to his reality of soggy waffles and moist bacon. The lights flickered yet again.

And a familiar face now sat across from him.

“Hello, Samuel Sander,” the voice said as his wings flapped over the old diner chair, “I have another message for you."

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