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🐍 Hell is empty
and
all the devils
are here. 🐍
--- *** --- --- A Few Hours Later or So ---
Once you arrived on the workplace and you were almost on the verge to be fired after your manager desiderated to pay a visit to his office for an exceedingly formal and professional conversation with the escorting sequence of despondence and mild irritation, anyway you were released from your manager's office shortly afterwards.
Within your very presence slowly but surely bled into the perpetual shift in the bar with serving diligently the rich variety of ocean of clients, either satisfied or dissatisfied, you kept your work with your co-workers that were in the same shift as well.
Once the daily episode's progression was smoothly gradual and chromatically illustrating the rich nuances embellishing of the daylight, suddenly for your surprise one of the recent customers was nobody else than a priest.
The devotional clergyman's physique differed from Timothy that was dully apparent, nevertheless, their age range interpreted the closeness of their tiny age gap the both gentlemen indisputably traded.
Within the bizarre, lukewarm presence of Father James seating in complete solicitude in the profoundest corners of the cafeteria by judging his respectful ecclesiastic title and presumable characteristical nature, incarnating the genuine notion of his solicitude appreciation, it still bizarrely astounded you even though he's presumed to be a plain customer like the others, regardless their occupation, status and so forth factors.
"I can see you're slipping away from me and you're so afraid that I'll plead with you to stay! But I'm gonna be strong and let you go your way!" The cafeteria's background slowly but surely fell a victim under the lull of the recent song that was playing on the speakers Gonna Be Strong by Gene Pitney, tingling its discreetly silver-tongued tunes into the dwellers' vulnerable ears. The mass of the clients wasn't enormous, nor compulsively small at the moment at all. The early November noon's celestially aureate sun filtered violently, promisingly with its saturating patchy mantle the façade's interior.
When you approached the solicitude territory of the redhead who was sitting by himself and his pristinely potent fingers fixing his priest collar neatly beneath the discreetly soothing touch of his fingertips slugging onto the featherly soft fabric, an unnerved heavy sigh flushed his tiny, flexible nostrils.
