…Late 1860’s, southern United States…
I got off the train in a small town in Mississippi. I am glad my sisters told me to were light weight clothing for in the humid stifling heat I think I would have passed out by now.
A man walks up to me and offers to carry my bag to the hotel. I laugh and say “I have no money for a hotel! My bag holds the blanket I sleep upon.”
He says “If you do not consider this too forward of me, may I ask what you are doing here?”
“Not at all, I am Sister Angelica; though the other sisters call me Sister Angel. It is funny really as I am hardly one!”
“I protest! You look like an angel” he replies.
“If I were an angel it would not have taken an extra year to be allowed to take my vows! I was so inept in convert they scraped together to buy me the cross I wear to celebrate my acceptance to the order.”
“All sisters wear crosses” he says with a British accent.
“Mine is different. Look closely” I insist. I worry he has vision problems since he has not noticed the Christ figure is a woman, quite naked at that.
“You intrigue me, Sister Angelica. I insist that you allow me to procure you a room at the hotel and allow me to buy you dinner so you can tell me your story” he says.
“Oh, I could not possible accept such an offer! You are too generous!”
“How is one to perform an act of kindness if he has no recipient?”
I look at him and think he does have a point. “You are a wise man. But you have me at a disadvantage as you know who I am and I nothing about you!”
He slaps his forehead and says “At times I think I left my manners back in England! Forgive me! I am Sir Newton Wragg, a report for the paper the Crux Chonicle. But please call me Newton. I would love to know your story so I may report it back home!”
“It is not that interesting. Stop me if you are bored. After all, I am merely a woman of the cloth.”
Little did she know Sir Wragg’s blessed his luck stars that she was a woman of tight thin cloth…
Tree
This is a strange start to a story…
I got off the train in a small town in Mississippi. I am glad my sisters told me to were light weight clothing for in the humid stifling heat I think I would have passed out by now.
A man walks up to me and offers to carry my bag to the hotel. I laugh and say “I have no money for a hotel! My bag holds the blanket I sleep upon.”
He says “If you do not consider this too forward of me, may I ask what you are doing here?”
“Not at all, I am Sister Angelica; though the other sisters call me Sister Angel. It is funny really as I am hardly one!”
“I protest! You look like an angel” he replies.
“If I were an angel it would not have taken an extra year to be allowed to take my vows! I was so inept in convert they scraped together to buy me the cross I wear to celebrate my acceptance to the order.”
“All sisters wear crosses” he says with a British accent.
“Mine is different. Look closely” I insist. I worry he has vision problems since he has not noticed the Christ figure is a woman, quite naked at that.
“You intrigue me, Sister Angelica. I insist that you allow me to procure you a room at the hotel and allow me to buy you dinner so you can tell me your story” he says.
“Oh, I could not possible accept such an offer! You are too generous!”
“How is one to perform an act of kindness if he has no recipient?”
I look at him and think he does have a point. “You are a wise man. But you have me at a disadvantage as you know who I am and I nothing about you!”
He slaps his forehead and says “At times I think I left my manners back in England! Forgive me! I am Sir Newton Wragg, a report for the paper the Crux Chonicle. But please call me Newton. I would love to know your story so I may report it back home!”
“It is not that interesting. Stop me if you are bored. After all, I am merely a woman of the cloth.”
Little did she know Sir Wragg’s blessed his luck stars that she was a woman of tight thin cloth…
Tree
This is a strange start to a story…
... giggle... thought it was Rupert or something like that....
