Dexter Phillips’ message was stark, but
delivered with a calm which seemed to me later almost eerie. He was the one
person standing in the room – the rest of us sit on the floor – and he moved
among us like a hip, young university lecturer addressing an informal study
group. His tone had that quality too, conversational, casual, as if what we
were discussing was not that big a deal at all. Or maybe that’s unfair, perhaps
there was a slight sharpness to his tone – but no more than a weatherman letting
the great British public know there was a nasty storm on the way.
The end of the world is coming, he told us, and
we are the ones best prepared.
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