Idolatrine

Evangelical Protestantism is on the rise in South and Central American countries.
This part of the globe has historically been a catholic stronghold in matters of faith but the flock are turning. Brazil and Mexico, the two largest catholic nations in the world have had many converts to the Evangelical side and other Protestant church communities: Pentecostals, Baptists and Methodists. A personal relationship with Jesus is most important to evangelicals, whereas in Catholicism, priests and the church hierarchy are tasked with interpreting the Bible and being “God’s representatives”. Has the continent of Pele et al seen the light shining?

With chapel attendance dwindling in these areas it begs the further question, was Jorge Mario Bergoglio, the Jesuit cardinal from Buenos Aires the newly appointed successor to Saint Peter, chosen purely to revitalise the ailing roman church in Latin America? In modern times we don’t expect political intrigue straight out of the Borgias yet the appointment smacks of a desperate attempt to woo back floating voters by installing one of their own. And was the retired/deposed Benedict part of the scheme? We’ll need to wait until the papal archives are released. Continue reading “Idolatrine”

Window (Short story competition)

It took a few moments for her to realise that the man she thought had been waving at her through the window was in fact cleaning it. In readiness for a response she had already subconsciously improved her posture, moved her face into a smile and was just on the point waving back when she simultaneously realised her mistake – it wasn’t Alasdair – and felt a shop assistant observing her with an amused expression.

“In which aisle would I find eggs?” she said turning the ghost of the smile on the girl, determined that she should stay in control and suppress the deep heat of a flush that had already started, “And crystallised ginger?” She turned the trolley in anticipation, “I can’t seem to find anything since you had a change around in here.”

Later, after she had piled all the bags into the car boot she returned to the store’s cafe with The Guardian to have a latte, an almond croissant and two paracetamol. She pulled her glasses and an A5 notepad out of her hand bag and flipped over a few pages of lists to find today’s scrawl and started ticking and adding until she come across something, in her own handwriting that she couldn’t remember adding, and it was completely indecipherable. It seemed to say jumper bernies. She sat and stared at it for some while, but nothing clicked and in the end she put he notepad away and returned to her coffee and croissant. God, she thought, am I going completely mad? She picked up the newspaper and glanced at the front page before opening it at the crossword.

The first clue she glanced at was 1 Down:  What can a sticking plaster sing at Yuletide? (2, 4, 4, 3, 9). She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Shut her eyes and leaned back to think.

“Well I never! Hello, Vicky,” said a man’s voice.

She looked up to find a tall, elegant man smiling at her. She frowned lightly,

“I’m sorry?” Continue reading “Window (Short story competition)”