Church

He watched the receding spire of the house of God through the back window of the taxi.

In some strange way, the young man was convinced that he would not be returning. All this was happening within a few short weeks of receiving Holy Orders. Even to himself, he couldn’t explain how he’d become overwhelmed by his devotion; how he had come to the realisation that this was not his calling. For him the sole searching was over. The struggle between the customs, rituals and liturgy of the church and his desire to go out into the world, was over. He knew he needed time to reflect; to find somewhere quiet to analyse the past and to plan the future. He would give himself time. In his heart, he felt sure that the Almighty would understand.

Now, some distance from his place of birth, he managed to find temporary accommodation above a seedy wine bar in a small village. After a meagre meal, he went up to his room and climbed into bed. He made himself comfortable and spent a long time considering his situation before finally falling asleep.

It had been around two in the morning when he was brought out of his sleep by a commotion out in the hallway. There was a great deal of noise, with several voices and a woman wailing. He laid there listening to the drama unfold.

He had no way of knowing that within the hour, the young girl in the next room would give birth to the antichrist…

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