The madman stares at the grey wall of his cell, night and day, doing little else. What else is there to do? What he has seen, he claims, makes all choices irrelevant.
‘He says he has seen God,’ says the Warden to the new Doctor, as they both peer in through the hatch at the immobile madman.
‘Many claim the same,’ chuckles the Doctor. ‘But I yet to meet one who can evidence such a miracle.’
‘He says it is a curse,’ says the Warden thoughtfully, not fond of the new Doctor’s relaxed attitude. ‘Our patient says he wished he’d never met God, and that It hadn’t shown him the true nature of the cosmos.’
‘It?’ the Doctor raises an eyebrow. ‘Surely you mean “He” when referring to the Lord.’
‘The patient claims that God is most firmly and “It” and not a “He.” He says it is as far from man as any form of intelligence can be. He claims that it is more a force of nature than a benign overlord.’ The Warden taps the bars of the cell, recalling the many conversations he had with the patient. ‘He claims that God made us because the universe was dull without suffering’
‘How macabre,’ says the Doctor, looking around at the corridor and the doors to the other cells with a bored expression, evidently finished with his inspection of this patient. ‘And when did he see this profane God of his?’
The Warden is still looking into the cell, at the madman. ‘Oh, he sees It all the time, Doctor. He’s seeing It right now. There, on the wall.’ The warden points to the featureless plaster that the madman gazes into from his bed.
The Doctor scoffs, turning his attention back to the cell hatch. ‘Really? I wonder what this God is saying to him.’
‘That the universe is too still,’ croaks a voice from within the cell. The Doctor flinches back, as if struck. The madman, still sitting on the bed, has turned his head to stare through the hatch, locking his gaze with that of the Doctor. ‘And that the suffering here is… inadequate.’
Paddy Dobson
16th August 2022