Bio: Drake. A dash of yellow and pinch of saffron in a scoop of deepest dark. Conscience ticking like a f-ing time bomb. A creeping darkness in the soul. Limitless on the surface, shallow inside. Aberration in a perfect world.
Scene: A church. Fairly attended Sunday mass. Right outside, by the side of the huge doorway, stands the protagonist. A white box in his hands. Head lowered murmuring a prayer. A dangling pentagram glistening in the bright daylight.
All silent but for the sermon.
Thanks be to God
As murmur rises from the mass a shadow shifts across the doorway fading into the ornate woodwork. A child picks up the abandoned white box. Matching shade of white her beautiful frock. Blinded by the sun she opens it.
A flutter. A distant scream. A hundred doves fill the church.