Darren, God’s second son, was worried about the family’s legacy. Dad had an image problem, so he went to see him.
“Dad,” he said. “We need to give you a makeover.”
“What for?”
“All this divine retribution stuff,” Darren said. “It doesn’t play well. We need PR.”
“Where are we going to get that?”
“Ring the Pope.”
Continue readingIt was a brave new start. Eirwen told her friends, “You must come and see me. I’m 14 floors up and the views … honestly! It’s like living on a cruise ship!”
Now she was confused. Very confused, her cheek pressed hard against the carpet. The sun fell in a sharp line across her face. She remembered a deafening sound. There had been a roll of thunder, except it wasn’t thunder, because it came from below … a helicopter, in trouble, rapidly closing in, skimming the surface of the sea … But now, everything was strangely muffled and she was on the floor, paralysed. This must be what a stroke is. Without moving her head, she could see the clock on the wall, in bright sunlight. It was 3 minutes past 4.
***
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