Jacob tore off his collar, shoved a grimy door open, and trudged into the village tavern. Gray haze mingled with a rare hush caused Jacob to pause. Bloody smeared boot prints overlay the pitted floor. In a murky corner, three gnarly patrons clutched a sobbing man. Jacob knew him. Seth. Jacob had just seen his mother. Eyes swollen shut, broken arm and a ventilator was her story. Father Jacob elbowed past the group, knelt at a crumpled lifeless body and draped his priestly stole about his shoulders. Violet. For last rites. For Seth’s father.
Pamela Kennedy
17/9/2021 12:25:42 pm
So vividly written... I felt I was witnessing that scene.
Sue Clayton
18/9/2021 04:10:51 am
Gripping.
Bill Sells
20/9/2021 02:13:54 am
Great opener! What Pamela and Sue said. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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