The convert secured the offering. “Shouldn’t we be doing this during a lunar eclipse instead?”

The priest pulled a dagger from his robe. “We worship shadows caused by the moon, not the moon itself.”

“I’m not sure that’ll stop people from calling you ‘lunatics,'” muttered the woman on the altar.

Pontius Paiva is a minister of microfiction in service of the short story. Seekers can find him at pontiuspaiva.com.