Ora et Labora
A fiction short prompt by
, based on real happeningsThe tapered fingers came to life, maneuvered by invisible threads, following the murderous order whispered by the woman. The blow fell on the victim, surgical and impregnated with inevitable fate.
"We took it, Agnes."
Finally, the peace of the monastery's kitchen had been restored. A fleeting veil of reproach slipped over the cook's cheerful gaze as Flynn swore triumphantly at the fly, spread on his notebook.
"But now let's get back to our business, barley soup doesn't cook itself and ... not even your thesis".
"It's a nice association, even if it's my brain to cook," said the young man with his eyes shining curiously between the pots.
"If Father Thoram saw us wasting time chasing flies, you already know he'd send you to the library," the cook remarked.
Flynn threw her an accomplice grimace, before returning to dive into the pages of his thesis. No, all in all, the friar would not have thrown him out of the kitchen so easily.
Agnes could not have known what long walks in the cloister's rose garden had slowly revealed to his confessor father. That laborious daily harmony had a different taste for Flynn than what his other contemporaries of the Benedictine community felt.
Flynn sighed as the words drifted slowly from the pages, evaporating intertwined in his thoughts. Every moment, every little ritual within the silent walls of the monastery was like prickly air that swelled his lungs, giving him life. Those were precious moments far from the creature who, just two blocks away, waited every night for satisfying once more his craving for pain. Far from his stepfather.
The echoes of vespers suffused in his ears: soon the refectory would have been populated. It was almost time to help Agnes set the tables.
While books and notebooks were swallowed up by the backpack in random order, Flynn found himself thinking of that strange event months ago, when he was still an occasional guest of the monks' community. There was, indeed, another reason why he preferred to study among the noise of the pans. He would have never wanted to see that internet page, hastily closed but clear enough to impress itself deeply into his retina. All in all, the friar would not have thrown him out of the kitchen so easily.
"Flynn."
The backpack fell, spilling its content onto the floor.
"Son, follow me, Agnes can set her own."
Father Thoram didn't even seem to have noticed the mountain of papers scattered on the brown tiles. Standing out from the sagging features of his face, his eyes looked blacker than usual.
And this is my ending
"I... I'll be right there, Father."
Flynn quickly collected his books and papers by placing them inside the backpack in a disorderly and formless bundle, then with a clumsy and hasty step followed Father Thoram to his office, and once inside, the father began the conversation.
"You and Agnes have become very close, haven't you?"
For a moment Flynn felt cornered, he couldn't deny it.
"Father..."
Father Thoram interrupted.
"Flynn, everyone in the monastery holds you in high esteem and considers you one more of us. That's why I'm taking the courage to ask you a great favor, even though I still feel ashamed..."
"Father, I'm indebted to you, don't be ashamed to ask me for anything in my power."
"Do you remember the fuss that formed in the grotto at the end of spring?"
"Yes, I remember, that day I was visiting like I used to do every Wednesday."
"You see, the monks who consecrate their lives to the cloister must live in holiness, isolated from the outside world. That's why I've bothered with you before because of the free use of the computer and..." The father let out a sigh full of grief "That's why you'll understand that the monastery is no place for a young girl like Agnes."
Flynn's eyes widened, he could not imagine the silent walls of the monastery without the presence of Agnes in the kitchen.
"Please talk to her, explain to her that she has to go. I can't do it, Agnes is like my daughter! My speech would fail me".
Father Thomas had found Agnes as a little girl who had been orphaned and had taken her to live in the monastery, where she would eventually have learned the virtues of prayer and work. But now Agnes was a woman, a beautiful woman who interrupted the functioning of the monastery. Flynn understood immediately.
Flynn walked slowly towards the kitchen as if she did not want to reach it, thinking how unfair it was for Agnes to leave the monastery.
"Damm!" he said quietly as he crossed the threshold. The silent Victor heard him, but even so, the friar would not have thrown him out of the kitchen so easily.
"Agnes I have something important to tell you, Father Thoram asked me to talk to you, you can no longer stay in the monastery".
Flynn's face denounced a deep sorrow, yet Agnes kept that bright smile that illuminated the room.
"Don't worry Flynn, I knew this day would come and I'm ready, I can cook, clean, I've even learned to write. I will be able to defend myself"
"it doesn't have to be like this."
"It's the right thing, Flynn. You'll understand too."
"I'll go with you, Agnes." Flynn took her hand and put it on her chest.
"Really Flynn? Then, we will free the world of flies" Joked Agnes full of joy.
Flynn would never go back to the cellar found just two blocks away.
The End.
This is a participation for the Finish The Story - Week #54 from 