The Decennial Sacrament
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When the fate of humanity rests in the hands of the divine, we are safe. When it rests in the collective wisdom of all human souls, we are safe. But what if it rested in the hands of ONE human?
The Decennial Sacrament (pdf)
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88 pages
Prologue You don’t know me and you never will. My name is irrelevant and I have already changed it anyway. It’s almost funny how easy it was to do in this semi-post-apocalyptic society. Identity has become fluid as the world adjusts to losing more than a third of its population. And since I am literally the last person alive who could be held responsible for it all, I think it is best that my old life die with everyone else’s in the church. My old life. At 32 that should not be phrase I understand let alone use with any earnest intent. But life for everyone left alive has changed, as you well know. It’s not necessarily worse for many of us – it’s just very different. I have strengths and abilities I never knew existed because I never needed them. Now I need them, as you well know. But at the very end of my old life, I made a promise. Two promises. I will care for the child. I will finish telling the story. Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. Robert Frost. I’m hoping at least a few of you already knew that. The child is safe. She will thrive and fulfil the destiny appointed. Whatever that happens to be. I believe in destiny now. That’s one of the bigger changes. So here’s the second promise – the end of the story that the former Presiding Priest started to tell. (Did he even tell you his name? I’ve only had time to skim what he wrote.) From my point of view and with my words, of course. Which means there will probably be a lot less profanity. He used the “F” word more than everyone else I’ve ever known. Combined. But then, he was a lawyer, so … But the scale of death he caused paled in comparison to what I just did. Three hundred million was a drop in the bucket. The final count will never be made official. But I know it. I know the exact number. Two billion, four hundred and thirty seven million, four hundred and sixty thousand, eight hundred and four. And counting. There are still at least a billion people waiting to die because of me. Close to half the population by the time this is over – and every one of them at my feet. I can feel every one. Every time it happens. It has become a continuous dull ache in my head that I am learning to ignore. Except when a whole bunch of you die at once. There’s a brief moment when my head simply goes blank – no pain, no thoughts, no memories - nothing. A brief moment when I die along with you. The difference of course is that you stay dead. God wanted someone to keep track. I have always been good with numbers. That’s the only justification I can think of for choosing me. It’s wrong of course. There is another reason that I’m not aware of … yet. But I am now stranded here – Between the woods and frozen lake. Even destiny has choices. But dark choices are never good choices on the darkest evening of the year. You thought I used that Frost quote for the boring and grossly overused “promises to keep” cliché, didn’t you? Buckle up. Truth sucks. Make another choice whenever you can. That’s the only advice you’re going to get from me. I promise. Preaching was something I used to do. I try to avoid it now because now my self-righteousness is real. Before it was just an act. I know how and when you are going to die. So don’t ask because I’ll tell you the truth. Steven Mack / 143 E. Main St. / Columbus / Ohio / US – you are going to drop dead from a stroke the moment you finish reading this paragraph. You will be found in front of your computer screen with the cursor blinking right HERE That was a joke. There is no such person. That piece was a lie. But I really do know. I’m just not telling. Not anyone. Not ever. Except you, of course. Count down from ten. Right now. I dare you. No? OK – I’ll help. You’ll keep reading even though the fear is rising in your belly right now because despite everything that has happened in the last week you still don’t believe. You are still waiting for the explanation, the logical reason. Ready? Ten … Nine … Eight … Seven … Six … Five … Four … Three … Two … One … Why in the name of anything holy would you think that I would let you die now? I promised to tell a story. The words are not the story. The story does not happen until the words are experienced by someone. You have to finish reading this in order for the story to be told and I promised to finish telling the story, not just write it down. I’m turning the narrative back to that pompous blowhard so he can make some feeble attempt at explaining all this. I’ll see you again in a couple of hundred pages. Just don’t say the word “zero” until I tell you to. Oops. Sorry.
Size
774 KB
Length
88 pages
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