Part of me sits back and thinks…imagine if none of these muses had ever shown up. Mayhap my Rebels may have populated the pages of writing that have been consumed by EP and his ilk.
“My life was a series of routines and rituals. I always had my coffee from a chipped beer glass with one sugar cube. Always scalded the tip of my tongue. Then I’d read the sports’ section of the Herald Sun from back to front.
I’d pass the paper on to old Mr Hunter who lived in the apartment opposite mine. He knew what I was but he was always telling me how he’d been on covert ops in the Great War. Never knew if he was telling the truth. Guess he thought the same of me.
Then it was on to the gym on Providence Street and then the office.
The office wasn’t much. Just an old weatherboard that sat facing backwards on a tiny block right in the heart of town. And, that’s where I waited for whatever job came my way.
It’s hard to fathom how many jobs I carried out, but it all came to a head when I met Colleen. Her father was my final job.
That ruined me.”
Daniel McTavish – A/N This is McTavish as he originally came to me, long before he became the narrator of The Uprising. This McTavish is a former assassin, come youth pastor and in essence is the REAL Daniel McTavish. My number one muse.
“Christmas? Hmmm, I’ve never really talked about what this season means to me. I didn’t celebrate as a kid. Well, I didn’t celebrate the real thing. Didn’t believe in it. We did presents and the tree and a lot of eating. My parents were the devout ones.
I became a Christian later in life. Though I was raised by good Catholic parents. They’d be mortified by what I became in life, though. At least when I was younger.
Not sure they’d be particularly enamoured by my current profession either. They’re traditionalists. Go to mass every Saturday evening… I pastor youth at a large contemporary church. Not their thing really. But, I’m digressing aren’t I?
Christmas means to me? Community. Love. Joy. A lot of things that I lost over the years and had to regain. And, redemption. Or at least the promise of redemption. I mean, the coming of Jesus as a man into our midst? That’s a big thing. And the fact that He came to save someone like me?
I don’t deserve that. But, that’s another thing, right? Christmas is a time for joy not for reliving the terrible things I’ve done…
So, yeah. That’s Christmas to me.”