Noah’s RV
Noah Moore paused as he walked past the living room. The voice on the TV never seemed to let up. “Our country is headed towards ruin, towards decay,” TV personality Bob Enoch warned. “Moral decrepitude is poisoning our society. Only by repenting our evil ways can we be saved.”
“How can you watch this crap?”
His girlfriend Imogen didn’t even turn around from her spot on the couch. “I think Enoch might be onto something.”
“Really?” Noah raised an eyebrow. “He’s a crackpot, Immy.”
“No, really. Watch this part.” She rewound the show until a man in a labcoat and heavy-rimmed glasses joined the doughy host.
“God has a way of correcting mistakes,” said the guest. “Our mistakes, the sins of humanity. He works in mysterious ways, Bob. We must repent now, while there’s still time, before he strikes us down.”
“I see one nutjob talking to another.”
“Did you see his smirk at the end?” She hit rewind again, pausing on the man’s twisted smile. “See the look in his eyes? This guy is up to something. Even Enoch is scared of him.”
“Bob Enoch, the watcher and chronicler of all that happens under the heavens, is afraid of someone? Now that’s saying something.” Noah laughed.
