 a crisis of faith by james bruce may i couldn t bear the quiet house a second longer so i drove i got into my car and took whichever turns led towards the darkening clouds i sped through the suburbs and out into the countryside the engine rushing loudly in response to my urgency my need get close to the storm under the fringe of the weather my car was greeted by a few fat drops of rain puddles gathered and then gushed as the rhythm of the sky quickened hedgerow flashed by its blurred green dividing the greys of the road and sky i rolled open the windows freezing air came flowing in about me the drumming on the roof intensifying as flings of wheelspray splashed about the car i was led to a village where the rain was heaviest i didn t recognise the place i pulled the car over by a little church its thick stone walls darker where they were exposed to the rain as if a bleak paint job had been abandoned halfway to completion i stopped the engine the windscreen wipers lurched once then stopped the rain obscured the view almost instantly it assembled and darted downwards snaking over the glass and fell directly onto my arm and shoulder through the open window i opened the door for an hour i sat reading and rereading the email four years of close knit friendship and intimacy vanishing as quickly as it had arrived i knew we d been having problems i knew that recently we felt like something jarred went against us platonic we called it and we celebrated it friendship and love finely balanced our great achievement had the balance been tipped the email said that it had we believed in investment in work we knew it wasn t easy to carry this off had our friendship really overtaken our love really made everything awkward when we had made love lately it was exactly that awkward like plato himself was standing at the end of the bed disappointed tutting we both seemed suddenly nervous or just not relaxed how this had happened i had no idea we d often joked about the fact that neither of us had met the one previously and drank to our luck at meeting someone companionable to grow old with someone sexy funny sensitive who understood what life was about knew how to respond to the other not instinctually but informed intelligently perhaps it was unconventional but neither of us had wanted more than space freedom and time there were so many advantages neither of us had lost our friends neither of us became controlling or paranoid neither of us felt envy insecurity stress we believed it was genius practically avantgarde of course there were doubters but we ignored them called them blind narrowminded but now i could hear their whispers growing louder i read the email again i loved this garden especially first thing especially at this time of year the frosted grass crunching under my slippered foot the laurel s green withstanding the temptation to pale the bareknuckled sleeping roses silent my ritualistic morning cigarette and tea seemed larger a more intoxicating awakening the tea s steam was doubled in the cold my warm breath doubled my smoky exhalations so i seemed descended from dragons not a human at all enclosed still far from the main road there was little not to love about this garden the sky was azure today in all directions but one to the west a weather front approached a wandering shadow of rain clouds it would throw sleety icy rain driven by a cold bitter wind but our garden didn t care the darkening clouds were far off could not be heard and would probably pass us by here everything was quiet calm like watching a cellist playing behind thick glass my dressing gown swished as i moved from room to room the computer was firing up in the study the kettle chugging boiling in the kitchen the bath running and steaming the bed unmade i pulled the curtains to spotlight clothes scattered across the floor you d left in a hurry this morning so used to being late i thought working from home afforded me amazing observations i used to take advantage of the empty street and play music full volume but these days i chose the dampened serene melody of the house instead i watched as the sun cast away the condensation on the windows i watched the slow advance of shade the windows intrigued me i d seen all seasons through these windows i knew what was expected of me from work and had developed a system of rush and wait rush and wait hammer out umpteen emails and then wait for their replies sit and watch the weather pass sip tea think of you such a creature of habit you d probably chide but today the kettle clicked off unheeded the bedroom remained silently untidy the computer after delivering your email sat shy i slipped into the tepid bath the drip drip of the tap peerpressuring my tearducts i stood for some time next to my car the rain was heavy intense freezing the car seats were getting wet had i really wanted this to stand in a storm to let it pelt me to let it soak me i was not dressed for it but i didn t care after all what difference did it make i quickly unbuttoned my cardigan wet cold fingers struggling and threw it into my car i wound up the windows and slammed the door then stalked into the churchyard the gate creaked the puddles slapped the yew trees glistened and swayed with reverence in the strong wind grave stones leaned mossstrewn letters eroded by countless days like this one i stood for a moment a few strides back from the church door watching its cobwebbed porch being assailed by the rain why was i here i d wanted rain storm recklessness and if i d driven further the skies would have brightened here the rain was heaviest here the distance had been crossed the horizon met the church stood as an image i had never felt attached to it had always been normal mainstream conformist whereas i had built up a world of forerunning of freedom the rain did not ease slanting quickly across the day the church stood in front of me i in front of it i read your email again it was short and frank leaving no room for questions how could i reply to this should i even bother wouldn t it be better to wait to talk about it tonight assuming you d be coming home tonight if at all it said you d seen a decline but a sudden end in response to a slow decline just didn t make sense was there someone else had everything you d said you d believed about the nonexistence of the one your rejection and dismissal of fate had it all melted away in the face of some new lover was it all worthless had you strung me along taken what you d wanted and now intended to move on i stared at your words i hated them my head was full of questions each as groundshattering as the last why wiping my eyes i tore my gaze to the window i could see the rain clouds that had seemed so distant this morning now occupying more of the pale morning sky turbulent wintery and dark cold as my thoughts i felt close to them then at one gasping i wanted to be that storm i wanted it to blow my anger away wanted the wind stabbing straight through me i had a sudden need to be on the move to feel like you felt i snatched up my car keys inside the church my world of rain felt far away dripping wet i could hear the tiny descent of water from my jeans falling onto the flagstones could feel all my clothes were soaked heavy against my skin i stepped forward past the aisles a draught pulled at my senses cooling me further attempting to bring my blood in line with the cold nature of the heavens all was still in the church dim and immemorial images of a desert came into my mind dry sand at the base of a coarse cross heat thirst blood but it all seemed so far removed from here my pain my shock felt closer more real my anger kept the cold at bay but i was beginning to calm the unfamiliar surroundings of the village church helped me focus and force all of my questions into order and i prepared to feed them answers standing there under the rafters this old building it suddenly occurred to me held within it the same quiet as i so enjoyed in our home but with more shadow more space i then felt an unpleasant sensation of being watched turning slowly around a full circle revealed no one the altar a golden cross candlesticks stained glass windows darkly varnished smooth benches carpeted kneelers bibles musty hymnbooks gravestones in the walls i imagined skeletons under the floor owls hidden in corners the space cold and dusty had me or i had it why now was i more in love than you had i let my love show too much i hadn t thought so i had loved quietly as you had i had walked the wire balancing between love and friendship that was our quest both of us to avoid betrayal heartbreak to build trust maybe we had besmirched love so much its role had become languid and the balance tipped perhaps we d been fooling ourselves wrong all this time our unconsciousness storing every sigh desire and fear remembering them against our will had it all suddenly come to the surface our enlightened postmodern relationship was it always going to be one day crushed by our human nature should i have told you i love you did i want to hear you say it i began to shiver and i hugged myself for warmth did i have the strength to start again the tingling of stress lightened my lungs i resented myself standing in a church asking questions i thought would never be asked again with an uncomfortable feeling i thought of the similarities between this church and our house this place did not feel empty it felt like a home a ghostly home this made me stop and hold my breath nothing moved apart from the uncontrollable beat of my heart i could not hear the wind i could not hear the rain the storm had passed in dry clothes i sipped hot tea and lit a cigarette i haven t smoked inside for years outside of the window the afternoon sun sparkled across the garden it had been raining here too the house was warm and the neighbourhood quiet everybody still at work you would still be at work sometimes whilst sat waiting for tasks to present themselves to me i would write and tell you about my day i loaded up your email and without any right answers began to respond the roads were empty the car s heaters smelt of burning dust making mechanical transitions i looked for signs towards home wiping drizzle from the windscreen bringing you into my mind i tried to put myself in your shoes how much of this had been ideology how desperate were we to go against the grain i d always hoped that ultimately love and friendship would really be one and the same when we first met there d been a spark some chemistry something natural blossoming trying to govern those emotions to liberate ourselves from control itself from hurt and disappointment was a mistake the conversations discussions plans we had made beliefs we share all we ve worked for has clouded and relinquished the oneness of us i pulled into our street up to our quiet house our home i opened the door issue 1 fiction james bruce may thank you permalink submitted by joe not verified on february 5 2013 1201 thank you puffin and thank you james bruce may i feel moved by this story the description and poetry i can feel the rain feels like a bon iver us folk artist song in prose with appreciationjoe reply genius permalink submitted by adam not verified on february 5 2013 1304 amazing work can we have some more from you please  reply james permalink submitted by puntila not verified on february 5 2013 2038 wonderful stuff as always my friend keen evocative and in the momet reply captivating beautiful words permalink submitted by janie not verified on february 6 2013 917 captivating beautiful words james reply wonderful permalink submitted by jammymummy not verified on february 26 2013 1226 finally got to reading it beautiful more please  reply 