Happy Monday everyone! I’m back!
England was absolutely amazing. I had a wonderful time, which I shall tell you all about in some upcoming posts. However, I realized, much to my lament, that I was unable to post a Friday Fictioneers last Friday. So I am posting it today, just a few days late. I hope you’ll all forgive me, and enjoy the story as usual.
The cathedral door burst open, interrupting the evening service. Parishioners, clergymen and alter boys all turned as one to look at the soaked, shivering bundle that had collapsed inside the entrance. A young woman weakly raised her head. “Sanctuary,” she rasped, before passing out on the floor.
Later, Ava awoke in a warm, dry bed, dressed in a simple white gown. Her jagged, hastily shorn hair had been brushed and dried as well, and there was a glass of water sitting on her bedside table. She drank from it greedily.
“Father Leopold!” a boy’s voice shouted. Ava tensed. “She’s awake!”