I sat with him at the table. He offered me bread, a goblet of wine. After I partook he gave me a quill, some parchment, his smiling eyes encouraging me to write. Somehow the quill took over, gliding across the surface with ease. Before I knew it I was looking at a line of words I didn’t recognise. I looked up at him, his kind countenance pitying my ignorance. “Try reading it again,” he said. I looked down — suddenly the script made sense. “Reading what I have just written, I now believe.” A gentle smile was pursing his lips.
With news of Babylon burning around the world, I ventured out with my dog onto the bleak winter marsh, Christmas hat on.
Unexpectedly, a wind arose; Carly went crazy, barking, leaping, whilst I cowered on the ground, unsure of what was happening. There was an eerie light around us, a spinning disc above, descending, flashing multi-coloured beams in all directions. I made out symbols of a man, a lion, an ox, an eagle, emblazoned in gold light on the side, fixed signs of creation; Carly went quiet, whimpering between my legs. Suddenly the most beautiful woman I had ever seen stood before us, dressed in flowing silver raiment, her eyes a penetrating cyan.
“Why me?” I asked in my mind.
“Why not you?” she replied, smiling faintly. “Simply understand — this Christmas is like no other. I have to show you, not tell. Now you know.”
With that she was gone; Carly began to bark and leap once more, feigning attack on the craft which rose silently, before zipping rapidly away towards the gelid north, higher and higher, until it became a tiny point of light among revealing stars.
An extra terrestrial, or some inter-dimensional being? An angel could take any form, I figured. So was I some latter day Ezekiel, primed for changes, a release from this lower dimensional captivity? Either way, in my heart all fear and doubt was gone; this one incident encapsulated the time: The new age of disclosure had begun.
Ciscography 