General

A hunched figure cloaked in black kneels in front of the cross. The smooth, beads of the rosary are interlaced in the long, pale fingers of his trembling hands. "Forgive me Father for I have sinned." he whispers in a voice horse from reciting prayer after prayer, asking for forgiveness. He raises his gaze to the crucifix ahead of him and then up to Christ's face. His eyes are too afraid to meet Christ's for he fears what sort of condemnation he will find there. Maybe, just maybe if he pleads for forgiveness it will make everything better. It will be like it never happened. After all it was an accident right? He rises from his knees to his feet, and lights a candle. The dim yellow-orange glow of the light illuminates his hands which are stained crimson with blood.

By shoal, February 22, 2014*.
General

The clergyman strides across the damp grass toward the cottage that emits a steady stream of light, illuminating the steady rain. As he does so he takes his personal worries and problems and puts them to the back of his mind. He needs to be fully engaged in the concerns of these parishioners, it is time for wise words and counsel. He's been doing this for nigh thirty-five years and he knows scripture by heart, yet clamped to his chest he brings a leather bound Bible. He knows that just the sight of it brings comfort in times of pain. He raps on the door, it opens and he is mindful to project warmth and genuine caring. This is why he came to this profession, this calling. He heals and brings solace. He brings the word of God to those in need.

By lisarachel, October 30, 2014.