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The sunlight felt blinding when they eventually exited the copse, so much so that he squinted his eyes and almost missed the house that lay right on the edge of the forest. He opened his eyes in earnest just in time to see a man exit the woods, an axe slung over his shoulder and his eyes cast downwards at his muddy boots. Stolas instinctively turned in his seat to watch through the back window as the man wiped the hair from his face with one hand. Just before the car turned a corner and the man and his house dipped from view, he looked up sharply at the car, and his deep brown eyes met Stolas’s wide greys.
Then he was gone, and the road stretched out impossibly far between them, and suddenly the cab had reached the town.
Or, Father Stolas moves to a small town. He meets every resident during his first service; everyone, that is, save for the quiet, scarred man who lives on the outskirts of the forest.
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Bookmark Notes:
Watajai
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Bookmark Notes:
Fantastic. Holy shit // stolitz priest au FAV
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