Mercy
“He hunches over a blank sheet, his long fingers choking the pen. He never liked the woman. There was something in her gaze that went clean through his skin and poked about, as though she were charting his innards, every darkness he harboured, memory and deed.
Still, there’s no denying she had a fierce devotion to the Church. He nods sharply and scrawls the word fierce.
What else? She looked after him for a time, grudgingly but well. Looked after Father Rock too, don’t forget, not to mention Mat...hilda. Mathilda. He hasn’t laid eyes on her since—since before he left her the note. Her ox of a husband took care of the funeral arrangements, saying softly, “The wife’s beside herself, I’m afraid. Thought it best to let her rest.” August kept the desk between them, and by the end his hands had stopped shaking. There was nothing in Thomas Rose’s rather humbled demeanour to suggest he knew. Best to let her rest. But surely she’ll be at the funeral, pale and delicate in black, gazing up at him from the mourning pew.MoreLess
Still, there’s no denying she had a fierce devotion to the Church. He nods sharply and scrawls the word fierce.
What else? She looked after him for a time, grudgingly but well. Looked after Father Rock too, don’t forget, not to mention Mat...hilda. Mathilda. He hasn’t laid eyes on her since—since before he left her the note. Her ox of a husband took care of the funeral arrangements, saying softly, “The wife’s beside herself, I’m afraid. Thought it best to let her rest.” August kept the desk between them, and by the end his hands had stopped shaking. There was nothing in Thomas Rose’s rather humbled demeanour to suggest he knew. Best to let her rest. But surely she’ll be at the funeral, pale and delicate in black, gazing up at him from the mourning pew.MoreLess
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