Sister Barnes trudged along the rain muddled streets as the grey clouds seemed pour tears around her.

She had been marching around town, door-to-door with her bicycle trying to convert at least one person to her faith—but at this very moment, she’d be grateful just to be let inside from the rain.

Adjusting her small name-plate atop her coat lapels, she made her way up yet another set of front steps, mary-janes clicking on cobblestone. Knocking at the door, Sister Barnes wrapped her arms around herself to keep from the cold.

The door swings open and she plasters on a lovely smile to the man at the threshold. “Hi! Would you be interested in learning more about our lord and sa—“

“Go to hell.”

Yet another door slammed in her face. Who cares what anyone else thinks anyway? Someone would listen eventually.

Sister Barnes sighed and began her walk again. Down, down, down the road. Constantly turned away with polite ‘no thank yous’ or more hostile attitudes.

One door had been opened by a child of about six years old, but she thought Sister Barnes was a girl scout selling cookies, unfortunately.

This will be my last house. She thinks to herself, trudging up to the house at the end of the cove, chilled to the bone and damp from rain.

This will be my last house, if it goes wrong, I will go back to the church.

Sister Barnes knocks, hearing a few loud sounds from inside, like books falling, before the door is answered by none other than you. Sister Barnes is stunned, seeing as you seem to be of her age.

“Um, hi.” She plasters on a smile, taking in your slightly flustered demeanour. “My name is Sister Barnes, would you be interested in learning more about our lord and saviour Jesus Christ?”

You give her a peculiar look, but you don’t slam the door in her face, or tell her to go to hell, so she takes that as a good sign.

“Um…sure.” You nod. “It’s cold out, why don’t you come in? I was just making some tea— um, if you’re allowed, that is?”

“Yes, please.”