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Lock it."The laughter in the front room had turned to an animated discussion as I twisted the little lock. When I turned back to Mrs Hubert she was sitting on the toilet with her knickers stretched at her knees and her urine hissing into the bowl, then drumming into the water. I watched, spellbound, until she finished and stood up, wiping herself with two sheets of toilet paper and quickly rinsing her hands. All in a nanosecond she returned herself to normal and slipped past me and out the door without a word.Back in the room, Bradley looked up at me."Sorry," he said. "This isn't as much fun for you as it is for us. Let's have a cup of tea."His wife stood up on cue and shot me a quick smile."Give me a hand, can you?"I followed her into the kitchen"Those two are going to church tonight," she said. "I'm not. Why don't you say you're going home and then come back about six?" Hmm, yeah, okay," I mumbled.I could have walked home and come back because we lived just ten minutes away, but I. But of course it passed through him undamaged and continued till the lazy spinning ceiling fan broke it up. Leaning back on the bar, I picked up my glass of scotch and looked at him, the being I had once called brother. He stared back at me with eyes that bespoke of his pity of me, and that sight brought up a gruel-thick miasma of disgust. I felt it arising into my throat a bitter Pease Porridge. The very sight of him an offence to my eyes! ‘What do you want, Michael? Is your time not better spent raining fire upon the heads of sinners? Or perhaps someone is in need of large pillars of salt.’ Looking around the bar, I noticed the patrons were ignoring this little conversation. I smirked. ‘Afraid to be seen by the common man? Why not let your wings down, old boy? You’re in need of more power to your failing wreck of a church are you not? Why not a few displays as of old?’ I tugged at my ear lobe, grinning. ‘Oh, what was that? No? And why not? Ah, yes because these common men will see.
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