Sinister: The Void

[The Space Shed]

Space...

Big, isn't it?

The earth is several miles below.  It seems unreal to look at it in such a
manner.  It looks quiet, and innocuous enough, from this distance.  It looks
like a pleasant place to live.

I don't miss it.  It isn't my home any more.
I should say something Holy....'Truly, the glory of creation shines through
as I witness the work of our Lord all around me'..
Something like that.

But, the truth is, it is no more apparent up here than it was down there.
The emptiness clears my mind.  The void hints at hidden truths.  But I've
had enough of hints of Truth.  Either give me the real thing or leave me
alone.


Hello, and welcome, my lambs of Divinity,
My name is Sister Janice, and I have given my life to Jesus.

That is, I had given my life to Jesus.  Now, I suppose, I have it back.

I wish I knew what to do with it..


The space-ship doesn't have a control panel.  I have never been a scientist.
Nuns generally aren't.  People tell me science and faith don't necessarily
go together.  They don't understand that science is simply one more faith.
But, it remains the truth that nuns are not scientists.  And they're also
crap at building space-ships.  There is only one way to return to Earth.  I
switch off the fuel, and prepare for a crash-landing.  And I pray to someone
I once thought I knew all the way back to the planet.
----------------

Somewhere I can hear someone crying.  I don't think it is me.
The shed door swings open, its hinges broken, and I have no choice but to
step out into the chaos before me.

The street is lined with traffic, ambulances mostly.  Further up the road, I
can see lights blinking in the gathering darkness.  People gather around
them.. shouting, crying or just walking around, looking helpless.

A woman rushes up to me, grabs my shoulder, and collapses onto me, sobbing.
She allows words to flow from her mouth, fast and incoherent.. an Australian
accent.  I say nothing.  She doesn't need someone to listen, not yet.  She
just needs to talk.  I stroke her hair, and try to offer her comfort, but I
know it is useless.

I am beginning to realise where I am.  A holiday island.  Somewhere people
came to escape the misery of their everyday lives.  Somewhere people came to
find something, something better than the reality they have had thrust upon
them.  Instead, a different reality was presented to them.  One that cannot
be escaped from by aeroplane.

There is something of a crowd around me.  An old man is shouting at me
'calls himself a GOD, claims to care...how could he allow this to happen?'

I don't answer him.  There isn't an answer.  It is people with all the
answers who commit such acts of destruction.  I let him shout.  He needs
someone to blame.

One by one, they drift away.  Realising that I'm no use in this situation,
they look for somebody else who is.  They're looking in the wrong place.
They won't find that person in a habit.  They won't find it in another
person at all, if they can't find it in themselves.

I wish I could tell them how to do that, but, after all these years, I'm
still looking.

Back to the shed.  I flick a few switches and hope for the best.  Before
long, I'm in the air.

Into space.  Into nothingness.  Where I don't have to answer, or ask,
difficult questions.  At least, not until I'm ready.

Perhaps I should pray.  I kneel, and close my eyes, but there's nothing to
say.

The void is huge.  It hints at hidden truths.
It is cold up here.


Sister Janice

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