Short Story: Psalm 23.

Psalm 23.

The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.

I have never wanted; there is nothing to want in this metallicised Earth.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:

These green pastures will be the last place I ever lie: I have broken into The Dome.

He leadeth me beside the still waters.

Those waters where I met Celia, the waters that took Celia and these waters here, which will lead me to the pasture.

He restoreth my soul:

I had felt like a husk until He permitted her to visit me, and entreat me to the way of heaven.

He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name’ sake.

I will be away from the chaos and schisms of life outside: death here in The Dome will bring me the peace those who live here take so much for granted, and I will take it in His name, and for Celia.


Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

How Eden can turn to Earth, and its dark concrete alleys and steel valleys: red lights are flashing in here now, I think I can hear distance voices, barks.

I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;

I feel the Holy Spirit quicken my heart and alight my eyes! The pasture is but only paces ahead!

Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.

Thy rod at least, my last use of metal precious in this wasted land, I can feel in my jacket, near my heart.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;

The Tableaux of the fountain; I have reached it, though I see my black clad enemies rushing toward me;

Thou annointest my head with oil; My cup runneth over.

My hands are wet with water, but I only need the left to pull the trigger while with my right I make make the holy sign, so revolted in this artificial eden for unworthy heretics, apostates and godless men!

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,

Oh Lord, Spirit; guide my finger now, and let Celia guide me to Heaven.

I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.


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