Monday, November 05, 2007
Always vigilant, the gargoyle protects the weathered north face of the church of St. Pity’s. hunched against the wind and the rain. Every year gets harder. The acid in the air eats into his sandstone paws until he’s left hanging on by the shadow of what was once a terrible effigy of a demon. His snout has been chipped off by ice particles forming in the deep of winter and his eyes have been worn smooth by the wind. Still he guards, remembering the time when his wings were fresh and wide and the view was not an industrial estate.