The War had finished your fondness for kirks, you knew as much as any minister. To hell with ministers and toffs of his kind, they were aye the friends of the farmers, you knew . . . Trudging in the track of those little feet as a tethered beast that went round and round the tethering post in the midst of a park. As the gnomons of a giant dial the shadows of the Standing Stones crept into the east . . . Nothing impossible in . . .
Nothing endures . . .