The Eternals

Pattern of Pain

The orchid in front of the monastery was withering. The time for harvest had passed together with the victories of summer. On the exterior of the ten-meter-high walls, the pagan gods of natural cycles danced.

The changing of seasons had less to do with God and more in common with Time. Unless one knew how to seize the moment and grasp heartbeats, life was pretty dull.

That was Jungkook's opinion and his creed. Locked in his very repetitive tasks, he often turned his head to places others ignored or ran from.

He refused to live his life as if he was eternal. Death had to be on his side to spice things up, to prolong the smallest of pleasures. The inevitable End was a continuity of adrenaline shots.

Dislike of order did not translate to a dislike of religion or the monastic. He had no reason to hate the nuns that always welcomed him, kindly, whenever a package needed delivering their way.

The job as a delivery driver was just a job. He could pay the bills and he could save up for equipment during some months. He had regulars that tipped well and even though the nuns at the monastery didn't ever leave a tip, they were always kind to him. His tattoos and his long hair did not intimidate them.

Maybe they thought he needed saving?

Maybe he did but their go-to choice of redemption had been either pie, pretzels, butter cookies, jam, or honey. They shared with him whatever they had until Jungkook actually started licking his lips whenever he saw a package that needed to be delivered to the monastery's address.

He thought about delicious goodies while he cruised on the empty street, enjoying the lukewarm air that flowed in through the car window.

The monastery wasn't far from town and neither was it secluded, although one had to pass through a literal curtain of trees to get to it.

There was also a village nearby, but, oddly, it wasn't in Jungkook's delivery area. He only had the monastery. He suspected that whatever map app divided delivery areas probably had a bug because the location was about 15 minutes away from his regular zone, yet it was always allocated to him.

He didn't contest it. He hoped nobody would realize the error because it was a perfect irony.

What could have been more out of place than a tattooed guy with broad shoulders and long curly hair delivering cardboard boxes to a monastery?

Even if they sometimes eyed his tattooed hand, they gave him kindness.

There was more divinity in humans than in the books they read, he concluded, so he always went to the monastery with glee in his chest, pushing the hardships of Saturn over his shoulder to enjoy a few minutes of peace.

He could schedule his errands, therefore, the monastery was always the last delivery of the day. A box with the words FRAGILE in bold red sat in his hands as he went through the gigantic medieval gate.

The small Orthodox church stood in the middle of the courtyard, inside the protective, tall walls.

Alone.

Taciturn.

But faint music came from the inside.

A song bled through the small windows and the stone dripping inside the courtyard. It wouldn't have been the first time when Jungkook saw it empty, however. He sometimes passed by when a mass took place so most of the nuns were inside.

However, the music was different that day. It resembled a classical piece rather than the ecclesiastic Jungkook had trained himself to recognize. He shrugged it off. It wasn't unpleasant.