Saint Augustine's Pinkie Finger

Corrigan L. McMaster and Elba D. Morales and Dejesus and Gibbs met to discuss Gibb’s refusal to acknowledge the existence of God. They claimed that his stubbornness was due to a shaky attitude and no little disrespect for Catholics, Jews and Jehovah’s, too, and anyone who had faith and believed in the transubstantial. He, Gibb’s, refused to see how a biscuit could be turned into flesh and wine to blood. The concept seemed silly, more so, stupidly silly. He knew a baker who made Panini’s that looked like the Pope’s hat and baguettes that had an uncanny resemblance to Mother Theresa’s nose, and a locksmith who smithy keys to look like Saint Augustine’s pinkie finger, the one with the Vatican ring on it and long nail. The probability that bread could be made into flesh or wine pressed into blood seemed odd, odd indeed, so Gibb’s accepted nothing that he couldn’t see with his own eyes, eyes whey with cataracts and blistered round the lids from sleeping out in the open or under sagebrush and hedging.