“You are immortal,” he was told. “You will live forever.” This was quite impressive news to take in. To be told that one would never die is like releasing a pressure valve. Time stops, in an instant, suddenly an intangible force. The man drank a cup of tea, and sat in a chair for a long while, and thought about how he would move forward with this impressive news. He got nowhere fast. The tea grew cold, and the chair began to sink.
Cos that’s what it is right? My watch. Our watch. Can’t let it all turn to shit. All this glory. All this beautiful perfection, it don’t just appear for nothing. It’s on a knife’s edge. A knife’s edge every second. Could all fall down, blow up. If they got their way, it would. So you gotta be vigiliant. Gotta stay fucking vigilant, mate.
So here he found himself; in the bowels of a decaying, archaic church that jutted out from a rocky cliff, overlooking a hamlet full of poor, foolhardy people. People desperately carving out an existence, their wretched lives watched on by this crumbling reminder of a God that had forgotten them. It made him sick, their squalor.
