The alabaster abbey glowed like a white diamond in the
Caribbean skies. Father Thomas welcomed
his guest with a glass of wine and freshly baked bread. The man in green shorts and yellow shirt
moved uncomfortably in his chair as the bulge of his revolver pressured his bruised hip. He was a man accustomed
to deluxe surroundings and hearty five course meals, not this simple fare. However, under these conditions he had little choice at this moment but
to accept the monk’s hospitality. As the
monk prepared to administer grace, his guest heard a sound that jarred his
tattered soul and stirred his mind.
“There is a child somewhere who sings with a soprano voice like my
sister. She died seven years ago but a
voice such as this can bring back memories I thought I buried along with her
body.” He bent his head as the “Our
Father…” began and wondered if, this time, he could find a way to turn his life
around—again.
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