Parting the red sea
Jim sits in a small chapel. Stares at the cross. Sees the strategic lighting and feels jealousy. Confusion. Pain.
He remembers Sunday school. A token event. He remembers Mr Collins delivering ‘God is good’ messages with a mighty backhand as a show of faith and principles in ten commandments written in stone and held aloft. They might as well have been headstones for the cheeky and stupid few.
He asked John one night, do you pray Dad?
John had just stepped out from the bedroom with late night TV blaring and saw Jim on his knees trying to pray by his bed.
He was ducking out for a fag. Possibly post shag. What are you doing Jimmy, he asked?
Trying to pray…
What for?
The concern is genuine but the empathy momentary. What had he done wrong that his son need
