Father McClatchy! The clock is turning widdershins!
What? Already? Damn it! We won’t reach the church in time, Brother. There’s nothing for it but to set our seal here; this barn will have to do. Quickly – set the blessed wisteria candle on that crate and light the wick! I’ll paint the runes!
… And guard that flame with your life, Brother! If they succeed in extinguishing it, this will all have been for nothing…
This piece of flash fiction was written in response to: