<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>

“I like this building.”

The building is an old, dilapidated thing, built on a numbered street so long ago that it could be classified a historical site if it weren’t so ugly. Management dropped the ball over the fence years ago and apparently never thought it worth the trouble to climb over and pick it up again, and no amount of disgruntled(but politely-worded) letters of complaint has changed their minds.

The public transportation is nonexistent except when it is existent, in which case it is horrendous. The location’s one saving grace is its proximity to both the church and the soup kitchen, which allows the priest to both volunteer and walk most places he needs to be.

Incidentally, the proximity to the church does not preclude the high crime rate.

“Really?” asks the priest, who sounds both bemused and amused. An elderly woman wearing negligee wanders past. “I never thought I’d hear that.”

“Jack says he likes the lady with the night terrors next door.”

The priest stops midway through locking the front door to turn and look at the man sitting on a bench behind him. “Who?”

“Jack’s my cat.”

“Oh.” The priest turns the key and says, “I heard him yowling all night.”

“That just means he’s happy.” The old woman enters the elevator at the end of the hall, and then they’re alone again. The man starts making whooping noises just to hear his voice echo.

“Don’t do that,” says the priest, who almost feels embarrassed for chastising him. He opens his bag, feeling like he‘s forgotten something, and starts rifling through. “People are sleeping.”

“Why’d we get up so early?”

“We have to go sit at the bus stop for a while and hope they’re on schedule,” says the priest. “I don’t think you’ll be able to walk very far on that leg. Hold onto these for a minute.” The priest tosses him his set of keys to free up his hands.