Horsmanistan

And on that day was heard the holy silence of not god.

(Aldred pounds a rail spike into the floor of the warehouse.)

And everyone was amazed.

(Aldred ties one end of an enormous spool of heavy green twine around the protruding head of the spike.)

The silence was the most unquestionably sacred thing they had ever encountered.

(Aldred sticks the length of broom handle through the spool and grasps an end firmly in each hand.)

Even the sounds of the body, the high whine of CNS and the low swish of circulation, were silenced.

(Aldred takes a deep breath, then runs across the warehouse floor, out through the receiving doors.)

People stared up into the sky, jaws hanging loose, so full of bliss there was no room for anything else.

(For several minutes, the twine lies slack across the warehouse floor.)

The bliss swelled rapidly inside every being, expanding beyond their bodies, merging into one global bubble of joy and shared experience.

(Suddenly, the twine goes taut.)

Glowing, moving out into the atmosphere, turning the earth into a spiritual mirror of the sun.

(Twannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng.)

Pop. And everyone got on with what they were doing.

(That was a near thing, thinks Aldred, respooling twine as he walks the mile back to the warehouse, occasionally sticking his still throbbing finger in the corner of his mouth.)