It’s this landscape, Brian.

It’s eating me through.

Mary

Mary went to see her brother. He was lying on the bed with a terrible fever. He had visions. His lips were dry. He saw an angel floating above his head.

Mary pulled the angel by the sleeve.

Can you fetch me some water, she asked, my brother needs to drink.

I’m only here to sing, the angel replied.

He looked annoyed.

Singing won’t save his life, said Mary.

But it will save his soul.

How?

Right then it started to rain. There was no roof in the room. Mary’s brother’s face got drenched in water.

I’m drowning, he whispered.

Don’t worry, you’re only dreaming, Mary said, placing a hand on his forehead.

Don’t talk to him, he needs rest, said the angel.

Mary, please, said her brother, can you ask this stranger to leave the room, I want some time alone with you.

There is no angel, Mary said, there is no angel. It’s just the sun setting behind a jug full of holes.