Salvation In A Secular Age

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Soon, we were far out of town, riding through rough, barren countryside marked with slabs of dark, layered rock. There were stretches of harvested fields, and rows of dry grass. I had no idea where we were headed, but it didn't seem to matter. Finally, the road narrowed and changed to a dirt track flanked on either side by lanky trees and we stopped by a wooden gate.
"What's this place?"
"You'll see"
We walked to the top of the hill and when we reached, I gasped.
"Welcome to Werneth Low" he beamed and gestured melodramatically to the view.
We were standing along the top of the Low, the city of Manchester sprawled below us. The sight stretched far and endless, as though beyond lay mountains and nothing more of the world. It was quiet here too, but I noticed, this was different. The air was light and filled with late afternoon sunshine; it carried no heaviness nor remorse.
I felt as though I were a cloud, looking down at the world below me, free to cry down rain any time I please and the people below would thank me for nourishing their vegetation. Free to move about in any direction, travel as far as I please. Free to take on any form that befits me that day.
"The songs you sang the other day" I say, "were written by you?"
"Yes, well George and I have been writing songs for a while now.. we are completely symbiotic", he says while we walk along the edge of the cliff. "We write 50% of the songs each. But because we've been a band since I was 13, the musicianship of the other guys is..." he takes a moment to form his thoughts, "ingrained in the way I write and think- so I write for them and it becomes embellished. I couldn't be in a band with anybody else.." he trails off
"You guys are insanely talented and the bond you share shows in the way you feed off of each other's energy on stage"
"We know", he laughs while lighting a cigarette. "I smoke quite a bit. You don't mind, do you?"
I shake my head and light one for myself from the pack he offers me.
"I'd love to meet them some day"
"Well we're having another gig this weekend. You should come. Or you could join us tomorrow in rehearsals, I don't mind" he winks at me
"What about school?" I ask on instinct, not like I cared about school at all.
"Fuck school" he scoffs. "School is just a tedious imposition, getting in the way of me being a successful musician. I'm just watching the clock, waiting until I can go and do it". Listening to him talk about his ambitions with such vigour was striking. But also quite intimidating.
"What about you, Trinity? What is it that you want from life?", he asks me as we sit on a fence.
"Well the plan has always been business school and then taking over my dads empire or whatever" I say unenthusiastically.
"It's okay, you'll figure it out. You're only 17 for crying out loud" he jokes
"Well truth be told", I confess, "after my mom passed last year, it's brought about an existential crisis. And I've realised that the imaginary ladder of success... that checklist of success one has, is actually quite brittle." I pause, thinking about my dad. "My dad has built this life for me and, until recently, my mom and yeah he's seemingly checked off every item on the list. But what about all the things that aren't under his control? Like time? And, uh, mortality, I guess? And only now realises the importance of those things. But it's too late." I take a moment to think it over and say "So I guess in a truer sense, what I really want from life is salvation."

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