Another salesman

It was a chilly but clear mid-November morning as I walked over Waterloo bridge in the sunshine. As you cross the bridge, you get the best views over London, from the magnificent houses of parliament in the West, past the Gothamesque offices that line the river, Somerset House, St Pauls, away to the Gherkin and the city in the East with docklands in the distance. The skyline was punctuated by cranes, preparing each new building to pop up like a jack-in-the-box among the ancient and modern buildings of the thriving city.

Walking up Kingsway I watched a man in a people carrier perform a six point turn in the rush hour traffic, the drivers of the 59 and 168 hooting at him with their big bus foghorns. Then something unusual happened. I was just leaving Boots, where I had popped in to get some bonjela for my aching gums, when I was approached by a man who was not actually there; at least, he wasn't subject to the same space/time matrix that I was.

He told me he had come from Heaven to tell people about a new digital service offered by God. If I signed up I would be able to download visions, prophecies, prayers and, coming shortly, Godcasts. All I would need to do was to purchase a GodPod.

It would only be available metaphysically, so the price was quoted in good deeds rather than pounds sterling. And because it was a metaphysical device, I wouldn't have to worry about where to keep it, as it has a little clip I could use to attach it to my soul. It even came with a one year warranty covering faults, accidental damage, and theft by demonic entities (which can be a problem with metaphysical luxury goods).

I told him that yes, it sounded very interesting; I would certainly have a think about it, but I wouldn't sign up now, thanks. And I went on my way.