✞ Matthew 6:15 ✞
✞ "But if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses." ✞
✞ Sister Jude, or rather, Judy Martin, the former head nun of one of the most infamous mental hospitals in the small city of...
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--- *** --- --- A Few Weeks Later or So --- --- 10th of February, 1965 ---
With the advancing time Kit living with two ladies under the roof wasn't child's play at all for him. Two women with huge age gap and gut-wrenching worldviews and philosophy, besides sharing different backgrounds. Despite the series of discords between the young adults and the middle-aged lady, however, they relied on each other and gave each other second chances.
Especially Kit and Grace to Jude after agonizing them with the bloodthirsty canes, welting and scarring their rears. Last but not least, the young couple and the blonde were doubtlessly agitated for the unborn child that was living inside the French compatriot's belly.
The young couple were spending more time outside on snowy hikes in the woods, whilst the former holy woman preferred to stay at home with her vortex of thoughts and cleaning even doing housework in the one-story property which was the sole home she inhabited recently.
The wee hours of the afternoon were dimming the small city of Massachusetts's atmosphere with a rich snowfall, pelting down and conveniently, delightfully blanketing with chilly snow blanketing the overall surroundings and swarm of stark as newborns trees' branches. Silver light filtered through the living room's window.
Again, the former devotional member of the clergy couldn't escape from the madness of her impure thoughts and maniacal obsession over the man of the cloth though Grace and Kit weren't very fond of him, despite his long-time friendship with their roommate.
What questioned the former woman of the cloth was if Timothy was pondering profoundly and swimming through his ocean of thoughts about her and having impure thoughts of her yet.
Did he truly love her? Was Timothy dwelling out of the crude reality's realm and dwelling in the profound, heavenly depths of his reverie for modicum time at least? Was she part of his reverie? Was Judy the protagonist in his blizzard of thoughts? Was she the crucial reason why he mourned and putrefy physically and mentally?
The mellow swishing of the blizzard outside tingled angelic hymns into the former licentious jazz nightclub singer's sensitive, petite ears and fathoming almost every person's guilty person with a smugly shameless smile, spreading across her roseate cherub lips and wearing a thousand patterns of glee.
Reclining on seatable furniture, composing her posture, nonchalance and lethargy contoured her facial features with bright colors, whereas the storm was dancing and chanting its soundtrack in a deep resonance. Warmness, comfortable coziness and indulgence clung to her and reeked of snugness.
The housework was already done. No longer dust and chunks' remnants such as food and random' leftovers were clobbering the flooring of each room. The freshly ventilated air was wafting inside the property. It was a genuine paradise.
