Iggy's Miracle

by thenomnomkitty

In the cathedral, Iggy saw the world. With his own eyes. Now he thinks Catholicism is pretty legit, if miracles can happen. Kind of preach-y, using my own feelings as experience.

I can feel clouds, I'm in one. Whitish-pale, cold and clammy against my skin.

Then, there's just air. Nudge lets out a whoop and divebombs. The Gasman lets one rip, but we're away from the stink zone in seconds. Thank GOD.

I want to go back to a church.

I think a miracle happened. For a second, in St Patrick's Cathedral in New York, I could see.

Nudge had a pink frosting smudge on her cheek, and Angel was clutching a teddy bear.

Fang stood—kneeled—stoically as ever. Max needs to brush her hair. The Gasman was... the Gasman.

I was trying not to look around wildly to take everything in. I COULD SEE. I still can't get over it. There was a girl across the aisle, with really long hair. She smiled softly at me.

I blinked, and my sight was gone. I smiled back at her before facing forward again.

I've seen a tiny piece of the world, and I feel selfish, greedy, because I want to see more. Is that so much to ask?

Three seconds in the air, that's all. I want to see what the others do while we fly.

My name is Iggy, and I'm going to keep praying, I think.

A/N: SOO? What do you think? I think I'll keep writing this, actually. Cross between Bible and MR, because MR is so easy to write.

Nommy.