The harp had not been touched in over two thousand years. For those who believed, it was a relic from the funeral of Jesus Christ. For those who did not, it remained a priceless archaeological find.
The cook’s hands were calloused and dirty. Streaks of grease stained the harp’s ancient frame as he hefted it from the alter, soaking swiftly into the dry, sacred wood. He spat into his filthy palms.
No one was quick enough to stop him.
As his fingers stroked the ancient strings, as the notes rang out across the …

The Minister had been bringing homeless people here for as long as he could remember. Sometimes, if he strayed far enough, he had thoughts about what his life had been before. He vaguely remembered other places, other people, a thing named “God”.
But that was before the Starport, and before the tree.
“So, this is it?” the homeless man asked, “I just put the noose on and …”
“That’s it,” said the minister, “Instant transport … a life among the stars”.
“Well,” said the homeless man, “You’re the priest …”
The tree moaned, just a …