My Purgatory

Isabeau

I refuse to cry. Not over that pathetic, woman-hating priest.

Hating men is dangerous in a world ruled by them, yet Father Augustin sets me ablaze like a spark catching dry straw. I had wanted this convent to become a place of refuge. A place where I could finally rest... untouched by judgment.

Augustin

I resent her presence. Deeply, unrelentingly. Not for a single reason, but for everything she represents. And for the disturbance she brings to thoughts I once believed were chaste and disciplined.

God, grant me strength.