Church of burnt romances

Chapter one

Somewhere in Germany, around the 1860s

„Welcome to the tales of my shitty life" murmured Louis, brushing his hand through the shaggy fur of the black dog.
The air was still heated up from the sun that had been burning down all day, and was now vanishing behind the steeple of the old big church.

The church, where Louis would start his new job tomorrow, and with that a new stage of his life.

He wasn't ready for that.

Like, at all.

Alone the thought of it gave him anxiety and made his heart race.
He was now combing the dogs fur furiously with his fingers, which Cliff wasn't having at all.
The old dog got up slowly and trotted away.

„Oh so you're leaving me now too? The only one that I have left? Good comfort dog you are."

But Clifford couldn't seem to be bothered by Louis sarcastic words (that might have had a bit of truth in them), or maybe he just couldn't understand him, who knows.

Either way, he left the roof terrace through the wooden door that led to the stairs down to their new place.
They just moved in.
It was small and he had to share it, but it seemed like after some time he could get used to calling it home.

Still, there were loads of things he would have to do before it was homelike, since when he got here he just dropped his armful of bags and bits without unpacking anything except for the dog's bowl.

Louis continued watching the people down there dismantle the market stalls.

The pavered square got less and less crowded with the fading daylight, the smell of food from the sausage stand still in the air.
He got tired of stalking people carefree living when he was so nervous right now.
Louis spine cracked when he laid down on the hard stone of the roof terrace he'd spend the last maybe two ours on.
He already liked the place up here, it was nice and he was alone.
He liked alone.
Well, not really, he just didn't like people.

Looking at the stars appearing, Louis didn't know at what point his thought stopped being thoughts and started becoming dreams, but he was quite sure, that the pigeon poop that landed in the middle of his face, wasn't part of a dream any more.

„Oh c'mon, bugger off..."
he groaned, slowly sitting up, realising that the sun was already high up.
He looked at the humongous clock on the church steeple right in front of the rusty railing, and well, shit.

Falling asleep hadn't been part of his plan, and so wasn't being late on the first day of his new job.

There goes the good first impression he was hoping for.

Running down the two sets of squeaking stairs he grabbed his ivy cap, spotting the old Priest he's living with eating his breakfast with relish.

The old man startled a little bit, when Louis suddenly stood in front of the table.
He wasn't exactly deaf, but he didn't hear him tumble down the stairs.

„Me and your dog already had breakfast. You're late, son." he said with a deep, calm voice.

„So are you?" Louis flushed a bit at the nickname and grabbed a napkin to remove the pidgeon excrements from his cheek.

„I might have forgotten to tell you that we're a non-denominational church. It's always Priest Heinrich's evangelical service in the morning and the catholic one, the one I hold, in the evening."

Nodding, Louis stuffed his mouth with half a croissant, grabbed his jacket and ran out of the house, thanking god in a silent prayer that he now lives in the vicarage, from which it is only a few meters to the church.