A Strange and Unpredictable Day at the Cathedral with Deanna
It was the kind of day of which summer is made. In fact, it was summer. It was summer with sun and blue sky and almost nauseating heat – just the way we all love it. Deanna and I were at The Green by The Ladies of the Fountain (who inspired the story the Deanna, WhiteFeather and Sophie were reading a few days earlier. And, no, it’s not dirty, it’s art. Dirty art.).
Deanna said, “Face it, Biff, it’s not art. It’s a dirty story. It uses the letter ‘a’ indiscriminately. Now let’s get your sinful ass over to the cathedral and pray for you.”
“But …” said Biff.
“Do you want to wear this fountain?”
“Let’s go to the cathedral,” said Biff.
This is what the cathedral looks like. My friend, Glenn the Goth Musician, and I tried to toss a glow-in-the-dark Frisbee over it way back at the dawn of time, but we sobered up before we got it over.
This is what part of the cathedral looks like on the temporary cover of my next novel, Murder by Burger, which isn’t published yet, but will be when I get around to it.
“Stop trying to sell a novel that hasn’t been published yet,” said Deanna, “and get inside. By the way, did you say that copies of your last novel, The War Bug, can be bought at the UNB bookstore and ordered from Chapters … you know, the one featured on your web site at biffmitchell.com.”
After this bit of shameless self-promotion, Biff and Deanna went into the cathedral and Deanna was immediately transformed into a Mary-like presence and she prayed for Biff’s godless counter-culture pre-apocalyptic writing – that he might muster enough soul to write something funny some day.
And then she took a picture. The act was so random that it brought tears to Biff’s eyes. Unfortunately for him, Deanna was taking pictures of warrior angels descending from high to devour Biff.
In an instant, the angels devoured Biff.
“If you’d been an organist instead of a writer,” said Deanna, “you wouldn’t currently be in state of devourment from angels. What was that you had to say about Christian Existentialism?”
Deanna took a picture of the angels ascending with bits of Biff dripping from their teeth.
“Yum,” said one of them, “but I suddenly feel a flashback to the 60s coming on. Maybe we should have cooked him first.”
“What?” said another angel, “and miss a free high?”
Three monkeys representing translated into Gothic symbiology and representing the three deadly but daily pitfalls of see, hear and speak no evil watched the gruesome ascension.
“Glad that’s not my ass,” said Speak No Evil.
Deanna sighed and said, “If only he’d played the organ.”
A little window said, “I liked him. He was nice in a pre-apocalyptic way. And he didn’t eat bugs.”
“Speak for yourself, little window,” said a big window. “You never did see the whole picture. He had long hair under that ponytail. He had a strange effect on the angels. He disrupted the beautiful Deanna’s Qi Gong lesson with allusions to his dirty story.”
“You’re right,” said the little window. “He was a dork from Mars. Will I ever be a wise and powerful big window like you?”
“No,” said the big window, “you’ll always be small and never really get it.”
“That was a very unkind thing to say to the little window,” said the cathedral to the big window. “Remember, we’re all big in His eyes. And also remember, big windows make big targets when the shit hits the fan.”
The big window as nothing to day about this.
Deanna took a picture of a random man walking into the light.
The big window still had nothing to say.
And then an angel disguised as a brass fixture ate Deanna.
You can email Deanna and Biff at Ilive@theplacewhereangelspoop.com
posted by Biff at 11:22 p.m.
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