Book3:WereMyDreamIs

lookedupatthestatueherayingtoandsawthatitlookedaloof,unmovedandindifferent,andhadthesamewoodenexpressionshowingnosignofhavingheardhisdesperateprayers.Heagaiveryangry.Jumpingupandpointinghisfithestatue,heburstintowordsofdiscriminationandnation.“Whodoyouthinkyouare?Ikdownbeforeyouandpouredoutmyheart,beggingfivenessandmercy.Butyoudidn’tevenhearmeandjuststoodthereexpressionlessandmutelikethemudfigureyouare.Whatareyoubutalifelessthing?Youarenottheonlygodhere.Thereareothersbetterthanyou.I’llgoahem.”Mr.Fingerkbeforethestatueontheright,kowtowedrepeatedlytoitaedhisprayersasbefore.Buthedidaerresults.Heagainroseandwasabouttoheapinsultsonthatgodtoo,whenheheardsomeoneughingcoldlyathimandashrillvoicesaid,