/lit/ - Literature

>Check this prose, lit

Father Colwell looked out to his cosmic assembly and felt its eyes upon him. A brief moment of silence followed his arrival as men turned from each other to face the stand. Awe was rare to be found in space. Any man who chose the void was sure to be all but drained of it. Yet there alone stood Colwell. His imposing stature, elevated by the platform on which he had taken up his stance, made those before him to tilt their heads back and their gaze upward. Save for a crown of white which ran into a lustrous beard of the same, the dome of his head was bare. The immediate congregation, made up of a few casual observers, waited on him with passive interest. Most were transient workmen who had come of various mining colonies in the belt. A few devotees would remain for the duration, leaning on the clear panels of the outer wall to make way for those who would pass through the audience. Beyond them was the abyss. A vast expanse of asteroids, all aglow with the industry of millions. The light of itinerant freighters against the void. Signs of God.

His voice, less like thunder than the low roar that has been known to follow in its wake, then flooded the narrow corridor with a righteous presence. As he spoke, many left, for the depth of his timbre was equal to that of space itself, and his words went unheard for no man could perceive them. His face became red with apparent intensity and he raised his arms high in what those before him could only surmise was passion. When it appeared as though he had come to the furthest extremity of his temper, there came forth a sound that echoed throughout the station in deafening clarity.

Just the first scene. Is it worthy of more?