✞ Matthew 6:15 ✞
✞ "But if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses." ✞
✞ Sister Jude, or rather, Judy Martin, the former head nun of one of the most infamous mental hospitals in the small city of...
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--- *** --- --- The Next Morning --- --- 2nd of January, 1965 ---
The morning after approached quicker than the light summer zephyr, gently caressing the sand's lavish carpet, blanketing underneath the mist, crystalline sea.
The ambitious Monsignor's office along with the en-suite bedroom, linked with the austere office was once a battlefield. A battlefield of scrumptious coq-au-vin dinner, shared with one another, resuscitating the ambiance for the good old times' sake.
A battlefield of opulent lust, desire, and love. Wrinkled bed sheets and discarded blunt garments on the flooring. Feather even shrill moans and groans once echoed behind the four-wall rooms.
Wide, marvelously thick waves, collided through the dull walls of the old mental institution. They were rather like ghost whispers, swimming through the tempest of lethal silence as the grave. Discarded garments are replaced with invincible, painful emptiness.
The lust and desire were replaced with Hollow's best friends. Or rather, the hollow's incarnation. Cavities crying out loud for a change. A rich harvest of barrens. Emptiness. Sorrow. Loneliness. Compunction.
When the wee hours of the morning's hoary light filtered through the en-suite bedroom through the battered window, a chilly blanket swaddled Timothy who wore nothing else. He was as naked as a newborn baby.
Once he muffled with the palm of his mammoth, smooth hand a mere yawn, fanning his epidermis and thereafter rubbing with his fashioned in balled fists his groggy cocoa brown jewels, the British aristocrat came to his senses at last, flipping on the other side of the bed and fathoming the crude circumstance of waking up in an empty bed.
Waking in the emptiness with nobody else to snuggle in one another's arms, nuzzle their noses in a tender Eskimo kiss.
His Jude was missing and gone. It tore his heart into trillions of glassy, flimsy pieces, shattered as a luxurious pile of frustration, heartbreak, compunction, and misery. Frustration is a great deal of disappointment for being unable to alter the circumstances and most of all, bring the time back.
