The Girl and the Devil - @angerbda - SpacePunk

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The Girl and the Devil

A SpacePunk story by angerbda



Could there really be a "Miracle of Christmas"?

The Girl pondered the question...

What really puzzled her was the incongruity of the whole idea. Since Her Sacred Hooved was blessing her Just and Right followers, and considering no other divine entity could exists, how could even the idea of Christmas exists?

Surfing between 'Unconditional Belief' and 'Spiritual Diffidence' since her mission on Ch'a T'ing T'sao, otherwise known as the Tea Pot Planet orbiting between Mars and Earth, The Girl had had her doubt about almost anything and everything. Christmas, however, had never seemed so closely linked to the crumbling foundation of her faith. Christmas used to personify joy and family as far as she could remember. Now, it rhymed more with a 'variable geometry' religion. How celebrating the supposed birth of a man symbolizing a long forgotten religion could reconcile with conforming to the true faith of Her Holly Invisible Pinkness?

"...gda! Magda!" The man shouting her name sounded upset.

The Girl, slowly emerging from her deep thoughts, glanced at her tall, bulky, and overly annoying boss. Why keeping calling her with this dreadful name, she never got a straight answer from him. Captain Hollyster seemed to enjoy the cringe worthy name and always used it since the first time they met, and he continued even after taking over the position of her superior.

The Girl had assumed many names, as many as the number of missions she had partook in as a brilliant and successful investigator of the Intelligence Services. Serving the Church of the Invisible Pink Unicorn had always been a dream for her, but recently she found herself second-guessing her life choice.

"Magda! Are you listening to me?"

Mike Hollyster never liked being ignored. This time, however, he was more concerned than angered. Magda, The Girl, was seldom prone to inattention, even less moments of absence, and yet, it was probably the tenth time in the past couple of hours that he had to recall her to the harsh reality of life.

What plagued her, he could not think of anything remotely logical for her behavior. He could not readily ask her point-blanc if she suffered about her monthly lady-related bodily functions... Well... she did not behave as if her hormones had taken the better of her, though she was not herself today.

"Do you believe in miracles?"

Magda, still diving in her own fertile internal world, asked the man in a pensive tone.

The captain's eyes set on her, roaming her feature trying to decipher her thought. As brilliant an asset to the Service she was, she could be naïve at times, almost childish. Was it one of these occurrences?

"Magda... Well, I do believe in miracles... and you do, also, don't you? You just have to look at my father's attire to know miracles can happen. I could you explain all the miraculous pink appearing miraculously on his best shirts and more comfortable underwear? He is miracle-prone, a blessed man, loved by Her Holly Hooved Pinkness. What is your point?"

The Girl, still deep in her thoughts, paused a moment, her eyes far way. Then, with a shake of her head, she seemed to gather all her might into the present. Blinking once, twice, the muscles on her back assuming their 'working' position, she became finally alert, receptive.

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