Post by BDS on Sept 9, 2008 18:11:19 GMT
It was a beautiful late Summer morning here in the City when I rose. I went out into the garden to feed the pets and listen to the birds before the roar of traffic drowned them out. As I drank my coffee I noticed a new sound coming from the front of the house. Indistinct at first but more audible as each minute passed.
I nipped back through the house and looked out of the first floor window onto the street below. I was taken aback to see a crowd of several hundred people standing in small groups all over the road. All of them were checking up and down the road and then looking at my small house.
As each minute passed the crowd swelled. I noticed that some of the throng were uttering strange incantations and muttering. One man had his children there and was clearly instructing them in something. Others had their eyes closed or were kneeling in prayer. Not believing that an unremarkable house in an unremarkable street in an unremarkable city could be the focus of such attention I ventured out through the back door and joined the growing multitude.
I talked with those who were willing to listen. They had traveled a long way in the expectation of seeing something unique, life-changing and miraculous. They had learned that it was to take place at this place this very morning. This had been promised to them and, despite past disappointments, they believed that it would happen in the next few hours. No-one would or could say what they expected. So I waited with them.
At 8.05 a familiar figure could be seen marching down the hill. The crowd murmured, some gasped and some fainted with the excitement. The crowd parted. The figure approached my front door and, as he reached towards it the birds stopped singing and I could have sworn I heard a choir amid the hubbub.
He reached inside his large bag and pulled out a shiny white envelope. People screamed, shouted, and hollered with delight and pleasure. The atmosphere was buoyant, feverish, and at the same time awe-struck and reverent.
The gas bill slipped through my letterbox.
The postman (for it was he) moved away.
The crowd was silent. They turned their backs and walked slowly away.
"Maybe tomorrow" they said. "Maybe tomorrow we will see a real AGM notice" . "I hear it will be October" one said and renewed hope rippled through the departing throng. "Yes" said one "definitely October" "We must have got it wrong they said" "Thats it" said another "we must be wrong".
Little did they know how wrong.
The notice never arrived.
A small brown envelope did. It was from the Official Receiver and invited all interested parties to make their claims on the company at an address on the outskirts of Oswestry at 10.00 pm on a wet Sunday evening in January 2009.
"We cant go" a small group said in utter disbelief "for that is the exact time and place we planned to hold the AGM and bring enlightenment to the masses". It was a great shame because the venue and timing had been carefully planned to ensure that all who wished to attend were able to do so.
One sage commented sadly later "Will people never learn. Sheep never change their spots"
The disappointed crowds couldn't even go to watch some sport to forget their disappointment. All they could do was stand forlornly outside some locked iron gates in a far away place that had once inspired a community to be more than the sum of its parts and to remember what might have been.
I nipped back through the house and looked out of the first floor window onto the street below. I was taken aback to see a crowd of several hundred people standing in small groups all over the road. All of them were checking up and down the road and then looking at my small house.
As each minute passed the crowd swelled. I noticed that some of the throng were uttering strange incantations and muttering. One man had his children there and was clearly instructing them in something. Others had their eyes closed or were kneeling in prayer. Not believing that an unremarkable house in an unremarkable street in an unremarkable city could be the focus of such attention I ventured out through the back door and joined the growing multitude.
I talked with those who were willing to listen. They had traveled a long way in the expectation of seeing something unique, life-changing and miraculous. They had learned that it was to take place at this place this very morning. This had been promised to them and, despite past disappointments, they believed that it would happen in the next few hours. No-one would or could say what they expected. So I waited with them.
At 8.05 a familiar figure could be seen marching down the hill. The crowd murmured, some gasped and some fainted with the excitement. The crowd parted. The figure approached my front door and, as he reached towards it the birds stopped singing and I could have sworn I heard a choir amid the hubbub.
He reached inside his large bag and pulled out a shiny white envelope. People screamed, shouted, and hollered with delight and pleasure. The atmosphere was buoyant, feverish, and at the same time awe-struck and reverent.
The gas bill slipped through my letterbox.
The postman (for it was he) moved away.
The crowd was silent. They turned their backs and walked slowly away.
"Maybe tomorrow" they said. "Maybe tomorrow we will see a real AGM notice" . "I hear it will be October" one said and renewed hope rippled through the departing throng. "Yes" said one "definitely October" "We must have got it wrong they said" "Thats it" said another "we must be wrong".
Little did they know how wrong.
The notice never arrived.
A small brown envelope did. It was from the Official Receiver and invited all interested parties to make their claims on the company at an address on the outskirts of Oswestry at 10.00 pm on a wet Sunday evening in January 2009.
"We cant go" a small group said in utter disbelief "for that is the exact time and place we planned to hold the AGM and bring enlightenment to the masses". It was a great shame because the venue and timing had been carefully planned to ensure that all who wished to attend were able to do so.
One sage commented sadly later "Will people never learn. Sheep never change their spots"
The disappointed crowds couldn't even go to watch some sport to forget their disappointment. All they could do was stand forlornly outside some locked iron gates in a far away place that had once inspired a community to be more than the sum of its parts and to remember what might have been.