Banished

I volunteer at church, which is undoubtedly a surprise to many who know me, and on one of two different fronts. I don't know how charitable I am reputed to be, but I would not be surprised if it was not very. I also don't suppose that I'm seen to be an especially faithful soul, although I hope that some see me striving towards that. In any case, you ought to know for the purposes of this item that I sometimes run the computer which directs various media to the big screen seen by the congregation during services.

As long as I have done it, my station was among the bulk of the crew directly at the back of the auditorium, and there I had an excellent view of the stage, the screen and the congregation. I enjoyed all of that, and found much of it practical in doing my duty. It was not all good, of course. There were there distractions in the form of well-meaning friends as well as obstacles in the form of exceptionally tall worshipers who insisted on sitting right in front of my station.

I liked it there, but recent developments in the technical apparatus of the location have placed me elsewhere. Without going into it too deeply, circumstances have necessarily moved my station down to a room behind the stage away from the bulk of the crew and the congregation. I wondered whether I offended with body odor or long-winded speech (only the latter of which am I guilty that I know of), but gather this to not be the case. It's just the way things had to be.

Be that as it may, I could not help but think all of the first day like this how this reminded me of HG Wells' "The Time Machine". Perhaps you'll recall the future founded by the protagonist, in which the civilized but weak Eloi lived on the surface while the strong, brutish Morlocks dwelled below, periodically surfacing for raids. I don't know whether I see myself as a Morlock now any more than I would have fancied myself an Eloi before, but I'll know I must be one or the other if a time traveler materializes before me at any point.