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When I was training to become a priest, I did not know if I was high-church or low-church, but I did know that I didn't like incense and that I did like Primrose.
While I was studying at the theological college Primrose studied music at the other college. We met at a college dance. I thought that Primrose was better at music than I was as a priest.
One day all of us theologicals went to a service at an eastern church:
I took a deep breath of incense,
I went funny,
I could see only through a tunnel,
I fell,
I hit the baptism font with my head,
I past out,
I collapsed on the floor,
I was taken to hospital,
I was operated on,
I was kept in an artificial comma for a year,
I recovered,
I woke,
I could see Primrose.
None of this is true, I don't remember anything. Primrose told me what had happened.
The priest from the eastern church came to visit me, several times, he said that would never use incense again – it's bad for people.
I had trouble thinking, my brain had suffered, Primrose said that she would do all the thinking that I needed that I could not do. I had noticed that Primrose was cleverer than me, but too clever to tell me that.
I don't like incense and I do like Primrose.
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