Free Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1) by Lester Suggs Page B

And he realized he was blurting out questions like a robot.
    "If it hits land, and we do not think it will, it's going to be interesting. Something kids will be studying for decades,” Doctor Matt replied, proudly Frank noticed.
    “With this data, I do not expect a crater.” Matt said.
    Frank stiffened at the word “crater’’. “And what if it does penetrate the atmosphere?” Frank asked, startled to hear those words come from his own mouth. But what Matt said next startled him more.
    "50 meters wide, 20 meters deep. Some debris in the air for a couple of kilometers. Going to be felt for a thousand miles."
    Frank grasped the good doctor was beginning to churn out imaginings and cut him of.
    “I understand Doctor. We’ll talk more tomorrow. Thank you for your discretion,” Frank said.
    “Good day, Frank,” Matt said.
    Frank set the phone down and noticed he was standing. He never stood at his battleship of a desk.

Farewells
     
    Itishree looked around the kitchen and found nothing else to chop or peel. Washing her hands she paused at the sink gazing into the darkness beyond the kitchen window. Itishree saw her mother’s reflection studying her. She slumped. Even as a reflection Itishree understood that look. She had left an important something undone. Her and her mother both knew it. Itishree came to the harsh reality she had to face Suresh on her own. Itishree looked at her mother like a defeated animal. But when her mother straightened and put her hands on her hips, Itishree understood. She left the kitchen.
    She wove her way through the party collecting well wishes, blessings, hugs, and the occasional tear. In no time at all, Itishree found herself face to face with Suresh. She took his hand and led him back out onto the back patio. After setting him down on the bench farthest from the house, Itishree removed her hand and looked off into nowhere. She could almost hear her father’s words.
    “Itishree, one of the most important lessons you will learn is where you are in the stream of time.”
    Her father had began this talk on a similar bench but in a park not far from the house.
    “You and I are here now, but we will be in a new tomorrow somewhere, do you understand?”
    “No Pappi,” Itishree said as that little girl.
    “That’s all right baby.” Her father said, stroking her hair and cheek in one motion. “Do you remember yesterday?”
    “Yes, we had those orange sweets after supper,” Itishree said.
    Her father laughed.
    “Yes, you liked those orange balls?” he asked.
    “Oh yes,” the younger Itishree shot back.
    “Today is yesterday's tomorrow,” he said. ”Understand?”
    “Yes,” she said. “One day compared to the next.”
    Itishree remembered her father giving her a huge smile then. The smile was warm and gentle. He pressed on, “Every day has a tomorrow, and as you imagine many tomorrows, you are in the future. Next week is the future, and when you start school again, that too is the future.”
    The miniature Itishree nodded.
    “What we don't know about the future is who or what will be in our futures or where we shall be when we arrive,” her father finished.
    Itishree's little brow furrowed as if her father had listed the first postulate of trigonometry.
    Her father smiled at her. “That’s not the important part of this lesson, daughter,” he said. “The important part to remember is be kind to those in your life today, this moment.”
    She had known her father was aware she wasn’t getting the lesson and Itishree attempted to pacify her father by nodding. The nods didn’t work.
    “You don't know if they will be in your tomorrow, and you don't wish any person, animal, or thing to be vengeful, angry, jealous, or unkind to you in any of your tomorrow's, do you?” he asked.
    Itishree looked toward Suresh in silence. Her gut wanted her to ask why he was there. Putting herself aside, Itishree thought carefully on her words. She knew that emotions, her's or Suresh’s,