A Wolf At The Door

Deux

Once he calmed his erratic breathing, Olivier wiped his forehead with the palm of his hand. It became sticky with the sweat that formerly clung to his brow.

The first rays of light were already shining through the tiny window above, tinging the room a honey-colored yellow. The boy looked down at his palm, seeing the moisture glisten in the sunlight.

From outside his chamber, he could already hear the other monks shuffling around across the wooden floors. He sat there in his cot, listening intently for any words that might have drifted into through the cracks in the door. If they were speaking, their voices must have been kept to a whisper since Olivier could not hear them.

After a few minutes of silence, he decided it was time to get up. The last thing he wanted was another scolding for being late to the morning prayer.

With a sigh, the boy pushed himself off the bed and onto his feet. Grabbing the brown robe that laid on the nearby table, Olivier threw it over himself, covering his body almost to the ankle.

He opened the heavy wooden door, peering his head into the hallway. It was empty.

Everyone must be at morning prayer.

Fearing he was late, Olivier rushed through the monastery, throwing back the church doors once he reached them.

Sure enough, all the other monks were knelt down in prayer. Their eyes flickered open as he passed by the pews, sneering at him.

Entering an empty pew, Olivier quickly bent down to his knees and shut his eyes. His mouth moved swiftly as he began to mouth a soft prayer.

"Father, I had another dream last night," he whispered. "The same dream I have spoken of before."

"I do not know what it means except that it must mean something evil. I fear that is an omen of things to come." His hands were raised in front of him, squeezing one another.

"Please, Father, reveal to me what it means. Tell me what I must do to stop these dreams. If it is for a sin I have committed, please forgive me. I know I can be impatient. I sometimes become distracted during prayer. Forgive me of these sins. I shall be more pious from now on like Father Samuel." His brown eyes fluttered open, concluding his prayer. "Amen."

Olivier rose from his knees, glancing around to see the remaining monks still absorbed in their prayers. His eyes landed on the front pew where Father Samuel currently kneeled down; his hands trembling above him.

Bringing a hand to his grumbling stomach, the boy took a step backward before turning around and leaving the church.

**

Breakfast was the same as every morning in both what was served and the events that happened. A piece of bread and a soup made out of squash were what awaited the monks' after morning prayer.

As they grabbed their bowls, Olivier was usually the last one to receive his meal. And once he did, he was the only one left to sit alone.

It had always been this way. Ever since he could remember, the other monks- save for Father Samuel- rarely talked to him.

Today was no different.

After finishing his solitary breakfast, the boy grabbed an empty bucket and made his way outside into the garden that laid behind the monastery.

He already knew what was expected of him. He did not need to be reminded by one of the other monks of his daily chores as they surely would do if they saw him idle.

Placing the bucket on the edge of the well, Olivier drew up the water from beneath, filling his own bucket to the rim. Now having to use both hands to carry the bucket, he struggled on his walk back to the monastery, nearly tripping on the way there.