The Veneration at Polwheveral Manor by Benjamin Tweddell

Author:Benjamin Tweddell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mount Abraxas
Published: 2023-10-02T00:00:00+00:00

Shuddering, he slammed the book shut. He thought of the young Julius, listening, afraid, as his father read page after page of this hagiography aloud, on some gloomy, rain-filled afternoon many years before.

It was then that the blindness struck. The edges of his vision began to shimmer, objects and shapes merging, blurring into indistinguishable forms, as if the world was being drained of its life. And then a sickening fear reached out to grasp him, to pull him down, and immerse him in the void. He dared not move from the chair, for it seemed now the only tangible anchor in the midst of overwhelming darkness. But he had prepared for this, many times before. The key was to avoid panic. Taking deep, slow breaths, he felt his heart rate fall, and murmured the words of his beloved Lao Tzu, which he had learned by heart.

‘Coax your mind from its wandering…. cleanse your inner vision, until you see nothing but the light.’

Turning his head, Jacob visualised the kitchen, conjuring its dimensions in his mind. Since his arrival, he had consciously paced the bungalow, counting the steps from room to room, from object to object. It had been almost inevitable that the blindness would strike during his sojourn by the creek, and now he must simply keep his head, and ride the thing out. Luckily, he had purchased a few days’ worth of supplies that morning. Clambering to his feet, he took a deep breath, and left the security of the chair, mentally plotting a course toward the larder. Ten, eleven steps…… he held out his hands, and was gratified to feel the rough surface of the kitchen counter beneath his fingers, and beside it, the door behind which his food was stored. His preparations had not been in vain then. He would be able to negotiate his home, and hopefully, to feed himself. As long as this attack was short lived. The alternative gnawed at his brain. What if this time, it was permanent? The doctors had informed him that, regrettably, that was the most likely eventual outcome. Each attack increased in duration, and in savagery. What if this was the final one, from which he would never recover? He may be able to cope in the bungalow for a day or two. But what happened when the food ran out? His chances of navigating the track which led to the lane were horribly low. There were numerous steep drops, where the bank plunged into the creek below. It was unthinkable that he could walk the mile or so that was required, through the woods. What had Marrack said? ‘I shall be visiting from time to time to check the place. Otherwise, you’re on your own.’ He was on his own. The thought reverberated through his mind, and again the panic threatened to overwhelm him. Feeling his way around the kitchen wall to the front door, he peered outside, rain pattering upon his face. It was good to feel it, a reminder that the world existed still, that he was not truly adrift in an endless void.

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