When the tide is low you can just about see the spire of St Sabbas Church peeking out on the outskirts of the bay. When the cliff eroded it just slid straight into the sea and, by some divine provenance, remained utterly unbroken.
They used to hold sermons in there with all the words written onto laminated sheets but it didn't really catch on. People were too busy monitoring their oxygen tanks and waiting for old Preacher Nancarrow to make an appearance to really read what his replacement had to say.
You see, in those days the preacher's lived in their churches. It was their home as much as God's and aside from their community duties, they rarely left those comforting walls. Apparently Nancarrow refused to leave and spent his final moments gasping the Lord's Prayer while his lungs filled with salt water.
They say drowning's a slow and painful way to go, they say it feels like you're breathing in fire until your mind eventually gives up while your lungs still beg for air...
They used to hold sermons in there with all the words written onto laminated sheets but it didn't really catch on. People were too busy monitoring their oxygen tanks and waiting for old Preacher Nancarrow to make an appearance to really read what his replacement had to say.
You see, in those days the preacher's lived in their churches. It was their home as much as God's and aside from their community duties, they rarely left those comforting walls. Apparently Nancarrow refused to leave and spent his final moments gasping the Lord's Prayer while his lungs filled with salt water.
They say drowning's a slow and painful way to go, they say it feels like you're breathing in fire until your mind eventually gives up while your lungs still beg for air...
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