The vicar

The rubble in the driveway danced as the dirty old land rover slowly made its way towards the main building. The young vicar looks out the window as a thin line of sweat broke forth from his forehead making its way to his creaming cloak .The heat is at this point thick and unbearable. He almost wishes he had taken a bath .

The heat that afternoon is intense and the old fan working its way at the corner of his small office does no justice. It hums and cackles as if trying it's best to drive out the heat but all it does is make noise .The door to the land rover slowly opens to reveal a stout ,short man with a freakishly huge tummy. He walks awkwardly almost bouncing on his heels like a small child delivering news .

The hair in his head was thinning and one could see his bald spot from far considering his height. His teeth are arranged awkwardly as if fighting for space in his mouth , some bend so much forward he can't close his mouth entirely without a peek of white showing at the edge of his lips .

As the young vicar leaves his office slightly annoyed by the afternoon interruption, he spots.Sister Lucina and mother superior running towards the guest .As the vicar approaches them, a faint memory flashed across his mind back in the seminary ,he remembers his first encounter with the fat unpleasantman.

10 years back.

A slightly lanky woman is holding on to her son's arm as they get of the bus in front of the infamous Yellow seminary. The whitewashed buildings give off a cold air to whoever approaches. The young boy is short ,thin and dark skinned .His hair is unkempt and his socks aren't of the same color. He slightly nudges his mother when he sees the fat ginger-headed man who is slightly obese calling out for them.

"What a fine young man we have here you will fit in perfectly."Something told this little boy that that would be the last moment he ever saw his mother.

"I didn't bring them clothes he has not any at home" his mother states in a sad tone.

Before he knew it he was being whisked away by a pretty petite nun towards a large room. He saw other young boys like him all dressed in white......

"Good afternoon father Kolowski ?" he asks as the man turns to face him. He hadn't changed much.

He offers him a toothy smile and his small eyes crinkle in response.

In the office , as if sensing that it's job was futile, the old white fan gives up in a single hum . Father Kolawski collapses into one of the cream couches in the office and it groans .

He feels he should ask him why he is here , after so long but he smiles and holds it as one of the nuns enters with a jar of juice , the lemons floating awkwardly in it .

" You are all grown ," is what the old priest first says to him . He offers him the grin again . The silence is stiffening . He shifts uncomfortably as another memory floats into him mind.

He was sixteen , now in the seminary , he and the other young boys would sometimes run into Father Kolawski's garden to rest in the shade but never to pluck from the trees .Like the forbidden fruit , there was a huge apple tree , towering which was in the garden , do not steal , they were told one time and again . So they would restrain themselves.

But in this particular day he was very hungry, he thought to himself that if one of the juicy apples would fall and bless him with it's suppleness. He sighed as the apples stood firm , as if you ignore his request. But he thought to himself that he would take one , only one and he would never steal agains. He would eat it straight away and go to confession. Then he would cry and beg God to forgive him and God surely would .

He reached the tout branches , straightened himself , heaved and stretched until he got one . He immediately sunk his teeth . And was the first time he thought to himself, theft was rewarding.

When caught he was taken to the office where he was beaten by a wooden stick until he couldn't feel his behind .

He remembers that the heat in the office was just as it was at that moment. He remembers the soft , wet hands on his neck and down his chest. He can almost feel it , the way the hands snaked down his pants and into his manhood. The ugly feeling, the sound of Father Kolawski as he grunted in pleasure . He remembers many more times , times not only in the office ,but also in the bathroom, but he stole and that was his punishment.

He adjusts himself and looks up at the old priest now holding a glass of lemon juice in his sweaty hands. And he thinks to himself, what wrong he has done to deserve another visit .

y towards the main building. The young vicar looks out the window as a thin line of sweat broke forth from his forehead making its way to his creaming cloak .The heat is at this point thick and unbearable. He almost wishes he had taken a bath .

The heat that afternoon is intense and the old fan working its way at the corner of his small office does no justice. It hums and cackles as if trying it's best to drive out the heat but all it does is make noise .The door to the land rover slowly opens to reveal a stout ,short man with a freakishly huge tummy. He walks awkwardly almost bouncing on his heels like a small child delivering news .

The hair in his head was thinning and one could see his bald spot from far considering his height. His teeth are arranged awkwardly as if fighting for space in his mouth , some bend so much forward he can't close his mouth entirely without a peek of white showing at the edge of his lips .

As the young vicar leaves his office slightly annoyed by the afternoon interruption, he spots.Sister Lucina and mother superior running towards the guest .As the vicar approaches them, a faint memory flashed across his mind back in the seminary ,he remembers his first encounter with the fat unpleasantman.

10 years back.

A slightly lanky woman is holding on to her son's arm as they get of the bus in front of the infamous Yellow seminary. The whitewashed buildings give off a cold air to whoever approaches. The young boy is short ,thin and dark skinned .His hair is unkempt and his socks aren't of the same color. He slightly nudges his mother when he sees the fat ginger-headed man who is slightly obese calling out for them.

"What a fine young man we have here you will fit in perfectly."Something told this little boy that that would be the last moment he ever saw his mother.

"I didn't bring them clothes he has not any at home" his mother states in a sad tone.

Before he knew it he was being whisked away by a pretty petite nun towards a large room. He saw other young boys like him all dressed in white......

"Good afternoon father Kolowski ?" he asks as the man turns to face him. He hadn't changed much.

He offers him a toothy smile and his small eyes crinkle in response.

In the office , as if sensing that it's job was futile, the old white fan gives up in a single hum . Father Kolawski collapses into one of the cream couches in the office and it groans .

He feels he should ask him why he is here , after so long but he smiles and holds it as one of the nuns enters with a jar of juice , the lemons floating awkwardly in it .

" You are all grown ," is what the old priest first says to him . He offers him the grin again . The silence is stiffening . He shifts uncomfortably as another memory floats into him mind.

He was sixteen , now in the seminary , he and the other young boys would sometimes run into Father Kolawski's garden to rest in the shade but never to pluck from the trees .Like the forbidden fruit , there was a huge apple tree , towering which was in the garden , do not steal , they were told one time and again . So they would restrain themselves.

But in this particular day he was very hungry, he thought to himself that if one of the juicy apples would fall and bless him with it's suppleness. He sighed as the apples stood firm , as if you ignore his request. But he thought to himself that he would take one , only one and he would never steal agains. He would eat it straight away and go to confession. Then he would cry and beg God to forgive him and God surely would .

He reached the tout branches , straightened himself , heaved and stretched until he got one . He immediately sunk his teeth . And was the first time he thought to himself, theft was rewarding.

When caught he was taken to the office where he was beaten by a wooden stick until he couldn't feel his behind .

He remembers that the heat in the office was just as it was at that moment. He remembers the soft , wet hands on his neck and down his chest. He can almost feel it , the way the hands snaked down his pants and into his manhood. The ugly feeling, the sound of Father Kolawski as he grunted in pleasure . He remembers many more times , times not only in the office ,but also in the bathroom, but he stole and that was his punishment.

He adjusts himself and looks up at the old priest now holding a glass of lemon juice in his sweaty hands. And he thinks to himself, what wrong he has done to deserve another visit .