Black Goo
Father called me early to report about a "problem". By "father" I mean the reverend - in this village, he has always been the father. Boy was that tricky during my childhood - there was my own father, the father in church and even the all mighty father in Heavens. This must be the patriarchy I've heard oh so much about. I start loading up my truck. Must be a small water leakage, although, even that sounds improbable. I was there personally, watching over the damn thing, the whole renovation. There is hardly a nook in the cellar that my watchful eye won't recall. Could such elementary things have avoided my glance? I mean there is a chance. But I suspect the good old janitor knocking over his water bucket, on a hasty mission to fetch the sacramental wine, is the unlucky culprit. Anyway, better to see for myself. The wind grows harsher as I valiantly approach the church grounds. Completely honest, this place has always made me shudder, from a small child to ...