Y dice...

One. Exterior. Cathedral. Daylight.
Establishing It's Beauty In Elevation,
Stain Glass And Stone Carvings. From
Its Huge Doors Suddenly Comes A Flow
Of White Cloud Choir Boys.

Angelic,
White Surplussed, All Bobbing In A
Disciplined Stream. But Then, Suddenly
In Their Midst, Startling, Ridiculous,
Incongruous Is Martin A Young Man In
An Ill Fitting Rain Coat.

As The Boys
Proceed In Their Orderly Way, Martin
Is Left Alone. Peculiar, Disturbing.
Which One... Which One Will It Be?

Two. Interior. An Office Near The
Cathedral. Daylight. A View Of The
Cathedral Through The Window. Alone,
In This Dickensian Office Above The
Small Printing Presses, Sits Mr. Bates,
Middle Aged, Meticulous, Writing With
A Gold Barreled Fountain Pen. He's
Finishing A Little Verse Beneath A
Picture Of An Angel:

Although We All Must Sometimes Stumble
As We Journey Through This Life,
I've Never Heard You Moan Or Grumble,
The Perfect Mother And Wife.

Bates Places The Sheet Of Paper On Top
Of A Pile Of Similar Sheets, His Face
Heavy With Contempt. He Stares Into
The Middle Distance.

A Framed
Photograph Of A Lively, Attractive
Young Woman, Patty, His Daughter, Is
In Front Of Him, On His Expanse Of
Desk. He Glances At It.

He Caps His
Fountain Pen, Neatly Puts The Sheet
Into The Pending Tray, Neatly Lines Up
His Blotter, His Desk Aids, And
Satisfied, Rises To Join The Homeward
Throng.

Three. Exterior. Cathedral Precincts.
Fading Daylight. A Few People Bobbing
Along With The Anomalous, Near Vacant,
Tired Expression Of Home-Goers. Which
One... Which One Will It Be?

Fin