Chapter Eight
As much as I was enjoying this new lease of life with Jackie, something gnawed at me in the background. Something new. I couldn’t give it expression, but it felt alive. I decided to go to Cambridge Blackfriars, the only place I know that helps me make sense of troubled feelings.
As soon as I entered through the heavy wooden doors, I felt calm. The stone pillars keeping the church roof up were cold to touch, the concrete slaps on which I walked barely registered the weight of my foot. Even the air I inhaled seemed old and regal. People dislike the church because of its rigid inflexibility but this is what I find most compelling. I’ve heard it compared to the old Soviet Union, a super tanker in the ocean, something that needs an age to change even in the slightest direction,
