Noncanonical Texts

Bolton Abbey and Mount St. Odile Script Fragments

Monday, October 23, 2006

Chapter 908

Verses 28 - 32

Love not the silent fear, for loudly will it shake you down and steal your change.
Love not the late night high flight, for the morning comes more forcefully, heavier and blunt.
It will tear your aching heart apart.
Look longingly into mirror, with condensed morning breath obscuring tired mourning eyes,
and beg beg beg your Lord for mercy.
But still it will not come.

And then, on the last day, when the final pension payment has been made, the light will fall upon your drunken deeds, your whole drunken life, in which you stumbled blind from one empty promise to another. Oh praise praise in the highest, now you see the light, the cracks in the brush strokes and the dirt under the nails. Oh praise and praise and ecstasy, now you feel the damp, the cold under the cushion and the sulphur of the lightning strike. On this day there will be howling and gnashing of teeth, and tea and coffee, and biscuits, and a Welsh hymn, and the youngsters dressed in grieving black, and the chimney smoke, as you go back.

Hallowed be His game.

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