The Internet Murders - continues

Ok, time for something light during these difficult times. To order your autographed copy check out https://www.silvaredigonda.ca “Mrs. Delany made him a fresh pot of coffee. She didn’t think coffee was good and certainly not better than a nice cup of tea, especially now with all that had happened. She didn’t realize that she was muttering aloud. She heated him some scones, which she knew he could not resist. She found the Devon cream and put the tray before him once she had completed preparing everything just so, then quietly left the kitchen. She would not be able to do any work today. She was upset that Fr. Brown was dead, but more so for Fr. Francis. He had been at the church for five years now and always treated her with the utmost respect. He never called her by her first name. He did not make her retire, though Fr. Santinelli had wanted her to. If he hadn’t been transferred out, she knew she would not still be at the church. What would she have done then? All she knew was the church, which she had served since she was a young girl. She thought of the other churches where she had served, but here, it was her home, though she did not sleep here because she didn’t think it was proper. Fr. Francis was always kind to her, even when she forgot things sometimes. He even suggested that she sleep over when she felt tired. She loved him as if he was her biological son. He had never really needed her. She needed him and the Church. It had been her life for so many years. “Thank you God for finally giving me a son,” she whispered. She and Mr. Delany never could have children. I was not blessed, she had thought. She felt bad, when people asked her why they didn’t have children. She loved children so much, they would say, waiting for a reply. But she couldn’t reply, because she knew that if she did, she would cry, and she didn’t want them to see that. She would just change the subject and sometimes that would silence the curiosity of others. Sometimes it did not, and she suffered in silence. Well now, God had a special son for her: Fr. Francis. Her eyes were not too good these days, and Father hired her a helper to do the books, he said. Sonja came in twice a week for the cleaning. There wasn’t as much money now as in the past, but Fr. Francis was blessed by God because there was always some money coming in when the Church most needed it. Fr. Santinelli wanted her replaced with a younger version of herself, who could work faster and who didn’t need as many breaks as she now needed, now that she was old. She thought of the differences between the two priests. How can two men of God be so different? Fr. Francis needed her now, and she would see to it that he was well taken care of. She sat down on the comfortable green sofa. Fr. Francis hated the colour of the sofa, but would not replace it because that would cost money and he was always mindful of cost. She, however, loved the the sofa. It was big and comfortable. She sat back, resting her eyes. She didn’t realize that she fell asleep.” Excerpt From: Silva Redigonda. “The Internet Murders.”