After a sermon, Father Damien was sitting in his office, he was writing down god knows what, probably a to-do list, maybe a poem, or just some drawings, either way he wasn’t doing much. His prayer beads and his Bible with most of the pages well worn from tracing his fingers over the paragraphs and dog eared from hours of reading were sat neatly in his lap.

He heard a knock on his door and looked up. “Yes? Come in.”