Fog descends as we head back to the campus. It's as thick as the cloud on Mount Sinai, when Moses went up to meet God. He descended with the Tablets of Law, but what will bring back with us?
We're lost, hopelessly lost. Our kidnapped speaker's worried. What about the conference meal? He's supposed to be sitting at the high table. – 'Never mind the high table', W. says. Of course, the speaker's too full of sausage and mash to be able to eat anything else. – 'You have a real appetite!', W. said to him, impressed.
Where are we going? It's a very verdant campus, we agree. Very lush. The Thames Valley's known for its humidity, I tell them. It's very bad for asthmatics. I developed asthma when my family moved out here. And eczema. And lice, says W. And anal crabs, he says.
In the thick darkness: that's where God was waiting for Moses, W. says. That's how God appears to the mystic, Gregory of Nyssa said. The mystic receives a dark vision of God. But what do we see? Not God, at any rate. Barely even each other! It's a real pea-souper, we agree, speaking like the commoners in Brief Encounter. Gor blimey, guv'nor.
I tell them about my schooling in the suburbs near Reading. It was the worst of schooling. I tell them about my early days at work, in the warehouse. It was the worst of jobs.
W. loves these stories. I tell them about my first office job, by the dry ski slope in Bracknell. W. loves these stories, too. And I tell them about my escape to college, my escape to Manchester, despite knowing nothing of Manchester. – 'You had an instinct', W. says. 'It's admirable'.
We still haven't met God, though. We still haven't received the Tablets of Law. 'Go on, say something profound', W. says to our kidnapped speaker.
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