Thursday 29 December 2016

Thou Shalt Not

While I was blogless I had a story in Thou Shalt Not, an anthology of stories about the Ten Commandments. My story, 'Confessions', is about the fourth commandment: 'Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.'

The book was due out in 2015 but for various reasons it didn't actually come out until April 2016. No doubt the publisher was so amazed by the wonderfulness of my story that it took him six months to stop weeping tears of joy and actually publish the thing. And then the pages of my story had to be laminated so as to prevent water damage from the tears of joy when everyone else read it. (Incidentally, for anyone who might be wondering, no, this isn't the story I alluded to in my previous post.)


My fellow contributors in the anthology are:


Jeff Gardiner

Amanda Bigler
Clare Littleford
Laura Mauro
Danuta Reah
Pat Kelleher
Mark West
Jasper Kent
Jacey Bedford

The book is available in both hardback and ebook editions.


And now, for your delight and delectation, here is a small sample of my story, which is so stupendous it will absolutely, definitely, positively, make you weep tears of joy. (Disclaimer: story may not actually make you weep tears of joy.)


For the first time since the man entered the confessional Father Dooley turned to get a clear look at him. Tall, slim, with neatly trimmed greying hair and beard. Eyes shining brightly from a lean face. A black shirt beneath a grey jacket. The lattice cast light and shadow upon him, crosshatching his sharp features with black and white squares, making it look as though he had a crossword puzzle tattooed on his face.


In the beginning was the Word.


Except the Word was not yet present, there was only an empty grid, the clues unsolved.


Father Dooley’s eyes narrowed. ‘Who are you?’


The man ignored the question. ‘Don’t look so surprised at the idea of God sinning. You’ve read the Bible, you know what He’s capable of: death, famine, plagues, floods. His sins are so vast and so many that they eclipse infinity. But His greatest sin was His betrayal of the Sabbath.’


Father Dooley’s brow creased in confusion. He could not follow the leap in logic that led from an understandable, if woefully misguided, anger with God at all the misery in the world to the idea that God had failed to keep the Sabbath holy. Clearly the clues to this particular crossword were of the cryptic variety.


The man continued, his deep voice imbued with a gravitas which Father Dooley could only dream of possessing. ‘You sit and listen to your flock pour out all their sins and indiscretions then you give them prayers to say in penance. Most if not all of these sinners offer up these prayers on the same day you issue them, the Sabbath. God listens to their prayers so God is working on the Sabbath.’


‘That’s not quite how it works. You see – ’


‘Are you saying that God doesn’t listen to their prayers?’


‘No, I – ’


‘So He is working. And He is breaking the Sabbath.’


The man finally paused long enough to allow Father Dooley to complete a sentence. Father Dooley said nothing. He sensed that the man was daring him to respond purely so he could steamroller Father Dooley’s words with his flawed logic. The bewildered priest decided to hold his tongue for a moment longer in order to marshal his thoughts.


The man obviously took Father Dooley’s silence as an admission of defeat. Smiling, he delivered the coup de grace. ‘When your flock sins you hear their confession. When you sin the bishop hears your confession. When God sins who hears His confession?’

No comments:

Post a Comment