The Ark Secretary

“Of course it’s lovely to know they accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Saviour,” the professor grumbled. “But one expects a little more analysis from future Church leaders. Give it fifty-one percent. Have we signed ourselves in for lunch?”
    Mary mopped at the desk with some tissues. “I don’t think so, but I guess they’ll assume...”
    “Email to Japheth. Mary and I will both be in for lunch today as usual. Sorry about the short notice, exclamation mark.” As she tapped at the keyboard, screen-reading software kept track of her spelling and punctuation, repeating it aloud. Period. Exclaim! It was like having a bossy and more holy colleague. The professor had not inquired whether she was a believer at her job centre interview (“Office assistant needed for a blind professor of practical theology. Must have good sea legs...”). She assumed he didn’t care, so long as she could spell hermeneutical and Isaiah.
    The Ark lurched and more rain spattered down from the ceiling, just as a speaking clock announced that it was 12pm. The professor spoke a command in Ancient Hebrew and the wire security door to the aviary extension swung open. Mary caught hold of a dove – it was easy, they were all very tame – and opening a porthole chucked it out, against a blast of rain.