All Affirmative Slave Girls: Ten Minutes a Time 1000 Lynn

In the room with the door closed, the silence returned.

The footsteps of the monastic girl were also distanced, and Ease Ann, who returned to the tranquillity of being alone, swept to her thoughts.

Here lately there has been a murmur in the faith of this world.

Zhou Yi of Tai Chi Yin and Yang originated from a part of the eastern country. The exercise of the technique on the table is something that I would not normally care about.

For her, superficial differences of thought are often terminal. Mystery and superstition are completely different things, and the breakthrough of superstition forms the basis for reaching the foothills of faith. As long as everything in this world is born of God, it is self-evident that every outcome should be faith.

It is at the end of all the paths of this world that there is mystery, and there is God at the top that never reaches.

Otherwise, all immigrants from different sects in this city must be converted and excluded.

But there are many ideas living in this city.

Ez Ann knows.

Faith is prayer, forgiveness.

Pagan or heretic, she won't move unless she crosses the line. An empty hole of heresy in the world becomes a vessel into which faith is poured. That's all there is to complain about the unmissable or, if begged, preach the teachings.

Because it is only when you realize yourself, rather than being preached to by others, that you are closest to faith.

But.

"What's at your feet?"

Placing the basin, crushing.

Something so impossible to ignore by doing ez an existed here recently entering her entrusted city.

The identity is unknown.

Certainly foreign, but too cleverly hidden. It's 'something' that you can't see, hear, touch, and is unmatched by mystery. I can't even tell if it's harmful to the faith.

That's not trivial.

"Well, fine."

There is no such thing as justice and evil in this world. The distinction between good and bad that does not necessarily leave you in the victory or defeat of the struggle is not what people think. It's something that leans against the Divine Book. It's not far from what happened, and you'll find out for yourself.

Ez Ann places the received basin in the center of the floor of the room and kneels.

After finishing his pre meal prayers, Ez Ann opens her eyelids.

A basin brought to you by a monastic girl, in the eyes. Besides a glass of red wine poured into white pottery, there is one food that can be considered extra for her.

A piece of bread.

Regardless of a glass of red wine, you shouldn't be looking for bread. Suggestions from the girl who brought this, etc.

Ease Ann is also aware that the girl's offer was not a luxury, but an offer of goodwill.

In the first place, the monastery is poor. The spirit that lies in the midst of pure poverty and reaches out to give to someone instead of reaching out to gain for itself is something to respect.

But.

"We are..."

At the end of his gaze is a piece of soft-baked bread. of man's food, in its most common form.

Ez Ann, who pinched the slightest bread with her fingers, puts it in her mouth.

"Huh."

Moment after moment, she suppressed her throat.

The moment you put a pinch of bread in your mouth, your throat recurs a peristalsis. If you can't even accept just a slice of bread, her unconsciousness rejects it in conjunction with the flesh. A stomach that hasn't put anything in it slams around and contracts like a flip. He removed the nausea from his throat and rejected a pinch of bread shard he put in his mouth.

He kept his mouth shut as he spit out the iron skin, but the limit finally came.

The sound of Ezuku echoes in one room.

No water sounds.

I don't think the pieces of bread that Ez Ann spit out while spilling were dry and in people's mouths.

……

Ez Ann pinches a piece of her own spit with her finger.

Dedicated, the bread that weathered during viewing collapsed into dust.

Ease Ann shrugs small as she winds it through the open window and returns it to the earth.

"Food, what"

The quiet presentation of the proposition disappears without reaching anyone.

Closed the window, Ez Ann gently dropped her lid.

I was hungry.

I was thirsty.

The anguish of hunger, withering and cracking thirst that no one can escape, is constantly crushing her thoughts, turning reason into dust, and attacking her to extinguish even faith.

But how shall we satisfy the suffering that befalls us?

The hunger and thirst that comes more than the original sin is always with her body, purifying her spirit and soul.

It's already a sin to try to fill it.

Her mouth, full of God's followers, is not to swallow anything, but only to spit out faith.

And yet, why not?

……

Ez Ann put down the big box she was carrying, and when she did, she began to take off her monastic clothes. A string of monastic clothes is lightly stripped away and her nudity is exposed.

There is not a single scratch on the naked body of the short body. She looked like an unclean sanctity had taken shape, but there was no shard of feminine sedition in her standing there.

It's as if a naked statue stands. Whether you ever think it's beautiful to look at her right now, there will be a minority of people who want it.

People have a desire for meat. To warmth, to softness. Even though Ez Ann's nudity was in the shape of a person, it was too inhuman.

No matter how beautiful the shape is, people are never excited about muddy dolls without temperature.

Ez Ann leans slowly, hoisting a glass of red wine.

A red Shizukuishi spilled from the edge of the ceramic dripped from overhead all over his body.

It conveys its cheeks from its hair, sliding down its chest from its shoulders, passing its belly and flowing through its thighs. The red wine that conveyed Ez-Ann's body could never be zero on the floor.

It moisturizes from the skin of Ez-Ann to the inside, as it stains dry mud, turning it into her food.

This lasted eight years, it was her 'meal'.

I never get hungry. My thirst never heals. It's only a procedure to keep your body dry and from collapsing.

Being in a village also known as the starting point for the fall of the Empire, she has had little oral intake since she had herself a mystery known as a miracle in her doomed homeland.

one reason is that it is no longer necessary to

At the same time, I couldn't do it anymore, because it was a big reason.

And for eight years, she had always set herself on extreme hunger and thirst.

When a hunger that a normal person can't move one fingertip, a thirst that can't squeeze out a single voice, is satisfied even slightly, only once.

"... why"

It was an exchange in a coffee shop that slowly floated behind Eze Ann's brain letting her fill her whole body with red grace.

At that time, why?

Food offered. Sweetness touched the tongue. Feel put in the mouth, swallowed and dissolved in the stomach. of the junior who gave it to me, a smile.

That was an unmistakable gospel.

And her body is more god-given mud.

Wear monastic clothes at a time when the red liquid is stained and the skin is dry. By wearing clothes, her inhumanity was only slightly hidden.

"God. Almighty and incompetent, our Creator. Until dawn, the only god absent till the end."

Ez Ann prays with her hands together.

She does not seek salvation. Because I know there is no saving hand. No, it's not. Because the original man has been saved and he knows it is a sin to seek more than that.

There is no real God. It was the stupidity of the original sin that lived and lived everything that escaped the original that determined God's absence.

Still, she doesn't stop praying.

There is no shortcoming in believing in mystery, even if there is truth that there can never be such things as being saved in the hands of God. Where truth and reality have been, there is no reason to stop praying.

"To pray to the Great Lord in his absence, forgive the sounds of the gospel and the inexplicable body of grace"

In the extreme of pure poverty, which does not even seek salvation, the nun, who continues to shred herself, delivered a prayer to God, who is not in this world.