Mckenzie's Podcast

McKenzie is Spared Condensation stuck to the window like mist on a Scottish mountain. However, McKenzie was not in Scotland, The Land of his Fathers, he was in South East Asia, Myanmar to be precise, Mandalay City to be very precise. A drop of water left its trail and through the window blurred images of the city made indistinct shapes through the glass. McKenzie’s clothes stuck to him with sweat, he was only wearing a t-shirt and Bermudas but they were soaked through. He was alone for the moment but his head was still spinning from what had just happened. The tiny, plain room had been packed with around fifty people praying. Prayers like McKenzie had never heard; loud, fervent and passionate. Almost everyone had been weeping, their faces streaked with tears, crying out to God. Suddenly the bamboo door had burst open and at least twenty policemen with clubs had rushed in. It was carnage. The sickening thuds on beating flesh, breaking bones and frenzied screaming filled the room where the sound of prayer had