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straight
at the pulsing mouth of the maggot.
    The mouth opened wide and the flare
disappeared inside, immediately snuffed out.
    Rorate caeli desuper, et
nubes pluant iustum.
    Peccavimus, et facti sumus
tamquam immundus nos, et cecidimus quasi folium
universi.
    Jim was suddenly struck
immobile. He wanted to turn and run, to slam the door behind him and look for more
booze. But the blue light surrounded him and held him as tight as
if he’d been chained.
    His legs started to obey someone
else’s orders. He stepped out into the storm.
    The chanting immediately got louder
and more urgent. He translated it in his mind, even as his throat
started to articulate the sounds.
    Drop down dew ye heavens
from above, and let the clouds rain the Just One.
    As he stood finally in
front of the maggot , legs starting to melt and fuse, teeth growing in a mouth
that was suddenly too small, he knew.
    One of the twelve had been
taken.
    A replacement was needed.
    It is only
just.

 
In the Spring
     
    Why won’t they just go
away and leave me alone? she thought, but
didn’t say. That would be impolite.
    All her life, all seventy eight years
of it, she tried to live up to her standards - always be polite,
never shout, always comport yourself with dignity. But sometimes it
was hard. Especially when you son-in-law was of the opinion that
old age meant you should be treated like a two year old; you were
automatically deaf; and you were not to be trusted on your
own.
    He was at it again.
    "John. Come away and leave your Gran
alone. You’ll tire her out."
    As if she wasn’t capable of a few
minutes play with the boy. Hadn’t she brought up three children of
her own? And not the easy way either. They were always going on
about how hard life was today. They didn’t know the half of
it.
    Did they have to queue for hours -
ration book in hand - just to get a couple of eggs? Did they have
to walk home in the dark in fear that any light might bring a bomb
down on their heads? Had they had to stand by helpless as their
eldest son died of pneumonia through lack of medicines? She knew
the answer to all of these.
    But she mustn’t complain. Her life had
been easier than her mother's, which had been easier than her
mother’s before that, and so on, back to Roman times she supposed -
it was they way of things, that was all. Sometimes she wished that
the way of things was a bit more exciting, that she could tell them
all just to go away, that she could leave everything behind and go,
just go somewhere, anywhere, apart from these few square miles
which had bound her whole life.
    She realized that Dick was looking
down at her.
    "Are you all right Gran?"
    She wished he wouldn’t call her that.
It only made her feel even older.
    "I’m all right" she said. "Don’t fuss
over me. I’m not a dog."
    She saw the look he gave over his
shoulder to his wife, eyes wide in amusement. She had to do
something, otherwise she was going to scream in
frustration.
    "I’ll just go and put the kettle on."
She said, pushing herself out of the chair.
    "No, don’t worry mum, we’re just
leaving," her daughter responded.
    She tried not to show her
relief.
    There was a flurry of coats and
handbags and umbrellas were found, a brief wetness at her cheek as
she was kissed goodbye, and then they were gone, leaving her alone
once more.
    She was always guilty about the relief
she felt when they left. They were her only family, and you were
supposed to feel happy when they came to visit, but recently she
just wanted to be left alone. Too many people had been fussing over
her - the butcher who insisted that her meals would be delivered to
save her the walk into town; the postman who always waited until
she answered the door just to make sure she was OK; the doctor who
always called twice a week. It wasn’t as if she was an invalid - it
had only been a little fall. She hadn’t even broken any
bones.
    Ever since he had found her at the
foot of the stairs Dick had been trying to get her