9
Damp, dusty and dark.
That’s probably why I never go to church—that and the fact that I don’t believe in God.
How could anyone with all the s**t that goes on?
I used to, when I was young. I used to be paranoid about going to Hell, about facing the Devil himself and burning for my sins. Of course, my sins were a little less significant back then. The odd stolen chocolate bar, or a few pounds from Mum’s purse, or the occasional cheating on exams. Not exactly crimes of the century.
Not like burning people for a living.
The last time I set foot in a church was when Anna and I tied the knot. No, I tell a lie: it was to pay the bill for the ceremony.
Nothing’s free in this life. Not even God.
I didn’t really want to get married in a church. Didn’t see the point. But Anna insisted. She
