Saturday, 29 March 2008

Where was Moses when the lights went out?



Earth Hour: As the lights went out all over the city, and Albert, the Cathedral Dogsbody flipped the trip switch and plunged the Cathedral into darkness, curses were heard from the cupboard, where the Frank Stanford the Administrator was furtling to avoid the unwanted attentions of Bridget the bellringer. She was one of his numerous wannabe wives, a fact he attributed to to the indefinable glamour which came from working in an office which contained two thirds of a gothic window.

The Canon Theologian had stolen someone else's desk, not being able to find her own in the gloom, and was adapting a sermon for the local public school. It had all gone a little peculiar after the opening lines, and she was now pursuing a strange line of reasoning in which the atonement was likened to a flock of geese pursuing the Prime Minister. Across permafrost. It gave her a brief pause for contemplation, but then she shrugged. The Sundays after Easter were all a little temperamental, as were the geese.

No comments: