didn’t care.
‘A half-a-mile wide asteroid would wipe out the U.K. and if it struck the
ocean it’d induce massive tidal waves hundreds of feet high that would expunge
coastlines in the vicinity.’
The PDA scientist’s brow gleamed with sweat beneath the lights in the
studio. ‘All we can hope for is the asteroids are relatively smaller than the
largest one is predicted to be and hits the ocean as far away from the
coastline as possible, thereby reducing the damage and loss of lives.’
Struggling to find her voice, Gail was glad the gentleman sitting
alongside her had finished his analysis with the word “hope”, if not for the
viewers’ sake then her own.
Unnerved, Perkins killed the TV and sat, still holding a half-eaten
sandwich, not at all hungry in spite of his protesting stomach.
From what he gathered from the news was that there would be life after
the asteroids; although how much life and in what capacity was left to the
worst fear of all – the unknown.
*
In
the ensuing days, Anthony Perkins had read the newspapers and watched more
shows on TV regarding the asteroids and Doomsday. However, the prophet of the
Vatican church, bishop John Hayes had told him about, persistently clawed to
the forefront of his consciousness.
The conflicts in Israel and Afghanistan, the third world countries dying
of starvation, and the mysterious fog and the mad hysteria that it apparently
induced, plagued the world with misery and suffering. None of that mattered
now. No race was greater than the other. No sex was the superior of the two.
No nation dominated the others. All the aspects of the world and life
itself were forgotten. Everyone was equal. Everyone alive faced the same
harrowing fate.
St John’s Church was empty, save himself. He had arranged to meet with
John this morning at the church instead of at the village café. That was
another pleasure enjoyed that seemed like a thousand years ago.
When his friend and colleague arrived he looked as Anthony felt –
harried. They were so constrained with anxiety – scarcely containing the panic
raging within; instead of sitting in the vestry they positioned themselves on
the back row of the pews.
‘You’re not the only one whose faith is wavering,’ the Rector said
without preamble. They didn’t have time for greetings and cordial chat.
‘My sister is due any time now,’ Rev Perkins said, not acknowledging the
Rector’s brusque comment to start their conversation. ‘She’s without a husband
and needs all the support she can get.’
The bishop didn’t conceal his agitation.
‘I’m gonna go and be with her in the next week or so,’ Anthony went on,
unperturbed by the Rector’s noisy exhalation. ‘But I just wanted you to know
I’ll be here for you every day till then.’
John Hayes removed his thick-lensed spectacles and knuckled his sore
eyes. ‘I thought you’d be running for the door by now, cursing God and all of
Christianity.’
‘My faith in God may be on the rocks,’ Anthony said, ‘but my faith in
people like you will never fail.’
The bishop offered a smile. ‘Very nice. Poetic even.’
Rev Perkins turned away, disgusted by the sarcastic remark.
‘No, I mean it.’
Perkins tilted his head back and regarded the rafters overhead, seeing
the daylight illuminate the colourful translucent depictions on the
gothic-style windows. ‘What’s happening to us?’ he asked no one in particular.
‘No one comes to church anymore these days, except the elderly; afraid ’cause
they’re standing on death’s door. But what about the others? Maybe this isn’t
about anything else than bad luck or punishment of being too concerned with
ourselves and secular desires. The Pope spoke to the public yesterday about how
we needed to have faith… no one listened. Other ministers preaching around the
world aren’t truly speaking on behalf of God. Have you heard them? They stand
there giving an oration, speaking of good and evil and
‘A half-a-mile wide asteroid would wipe out the U.K. and if it struck the
ocean it’d induce massive tidal waves hundreds of feet high that would expunge
coastlines in the vicinity.’
The PDA scientist’s brow gleamed with sweat beneath the lights in the
studio. ‘All we can hope for is the asteroids are relatively smaller than the
largest one is predicted to be and hits the ocean as far away from the
coastline as possible, thereby reducing the damage and loss of lives.’
Struggling to find her voice, Gail was glad the gentleman sitting
alongside her had finished his analysis with the word “hope”, if not for the
viewers’ sake then her own.
Unnerved, Perkins killed the TV and sat, still holding a half-eaten
sandwich, not at all hungry in spite of his protesting stomach.
From what he gathered from the news was that there would be life after
the asteroids; although how much life and in what capacity was left to the
worst fear of all – the unknown.
*
In
the ensuing days, Anthony Perkins had read the newspapers and watched more
shows on TV regarding the asteroids and Doomsday. However, the prophet of the
Vatican church, bishop John Hayes had told him about, persistently clawed to
the forefront of his consciousness.
The conflicts in Israel and Afghanistan, the third world countries dying
of starvation, and the mysterious fog and the mad hysteria that it apparently
induced, plagued the world with misery and suffering. None of that mattered
now. No race was greater than the other. No sex was the superior of the two.
No nation dominated the others. All the aspects of the world and life
itself were forgotten. Everyone was equal. Everyone alive faced the same
harrowing fate.
St John’s Church was empty, save himself. He had arranged to meet with
John this morning at the church instead of at the village café. That was
another pleasure enjoyed that seemed like a thousand years ago.
When his friend and colleague arrived he looked as Anthony felt –
harried. They were so constrained with anxiety – scarcely containing the panic
raging within; instead of sitting in the vestry they positioned themselves on
the back row of the pews.
‘You’re not the only one whose faith is wavering,’ the Rector said
without preamble. They didn’t have time for greetings and cordial chat.
‘My sister is due any time now,’ Rev Perkins said, not acknowledging the
Rector’s brusque comment to start their conversation. ‘She’s without a husband
and needs all the support she can get.’
The bishop didn’t conceal his agitation.
‘I’m gonna go and be with her in the next week or so,’ Anthony went on,
unperturbed by the Rector’s noisy exhalation. ‘But I just wanted you to know
I’ll be here for you every day till then.’
John Hayes removed his thick-lensed spectacles and knuckled his sore
eyes. ‘I thought you’d be running for the door by now, cursing God and all of
Christianity.’
‘My faith in God may be on the rocks,’ Anthony said, ‘but my faith in
people like you will never fail.’
The bishop offered a smile. ‘Very nice. Poetic even.’
Rev Perkins turned away, disgusted by the sarcastic remark.
‘No, I mean it.’
Perkins tilted his head back and regarded the rafters overhead, seeing
the daylight illuminate the colourful translucent depictions on the
gothic-style windows. ‘What’s happening to us?’ he asked no one in particular.
‘No one comes to church anymore these days, except the elderly; afraid ’cause
they’re standing on death’s door. But what about the others? Maybe this isn’t
about anything else than bad luck or punishment of being too concerned with
ourselves and secular desires. The Pope spoke to the public yesterday about how
we needed to have faith… no one listened. Other ministers preaching around the
world aren’t truly speaking on behalf of God. Have you heard them? They stand
there giving an oration, speaking of good and evil and
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