The Curate shifted in his chair and let out a long sigh…… had become so complicated recently due to the storm that had knocked down the gutters and scattered all the flower petals out in his garden…….this morning dawned calm and humid but last night’s storm still lingered in the air, casting tension about…….

Miss Tavers had come over to discuss her concerns about what hymns had been sung in the church and the non-discrete “tippling” of the choir director.  Quite frankly, the Curate did not think there was a problem except in the head of Miss Tavers, who lived near the church, did not work (she was retired) and except for her own garden, didn’t have too much to do…….or rather had too much time on her hands……


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