The Hidden God (update Sept23)

Magic mushroom man did not want to hang around once the old drunken street-wreck rolled up to assume his seat. Latter had staked out his place with his red baseball cap before going in to order his dosai. (From the food order one might suppose there was some Indian heritage in the old Malay, perhaps.) Mushroom dealer considered himself quite a few pegs above the derelict—the brief look across at his departure told the story. Mushroom was a former seaman, scrubbing up nicely despite having entered his sixties. Fine head of hair, rosy cheeks, hosting a gal every so often up at one of the love hotels over the river. Given 6 - 9 months to live by the doctors seven years ago, fellow was defying the odds. (Asap from the forest mixed with some tabacci bought one a nice little ride.) The Ruination wanted to show some little something he must have taken from his pocket. What was that?... HOPE, inscribed on a small pediment. And, yes, it was indeed an angel mounted, hands clasped in prayer. One of the figurine's wings had been broken off. A gift if you wanted it, the Street-wreck offered. Possessions were of no value whatever to the man, he had explained a couple years back. Rather a surprise. Not the gift; that was not the surprise. It was the particular item that surprised.  In that quarter there. When the man was informed it was a Christian symbol, he immediately threw it into the gutter, where the piece broke apart entirely. God damn it! I'm a Muslim…A closer inspection of the cap on the table showed a white cross too. There had been some succor provided recently by the opposition. A week ago the man had been delivered food & drink by a couple of regular pals who took their supper with him. Friends from a former life. A day/two ago Beefy had commented that the Wreck would come round eventually; just give him time. Only three or four years on the bottle, Beef had said. One eye was turned and now closed the last couple of weeks, wrist bandaged. Chap's tee has shown bloodied more than once. Earlier shiners and bruises were difficult to guess—late night rumbles, or falls. A marriage breakdown alone might not have done for the fellow. Death of a child perhaps; thrown out of the house by one. Seeking god all the while. A number of existential questions have been posed the author over the last 3 - 4 years. Man had clearly been revolving plenty all the while. Well above average English. Beef must have been right about the term, fellow had not been around in the early part here.