“Eh Franco!” shouted a familiar call.
He turned to see his second cousin, Gregor, mounting the hill, waving rapidly with excitement as though he might not have heard him.
Gregor was a man of the cloth - only this was a cloth of a different kind.
His flamboyant colours were known all about town, and his signature style may have perhaps bettered a woman more than a man - or so it was said.
His novelty saved him, and made his business exceedingly successful, as well did his generosity of spirit and of coin.
Francis embraced him heartily with a tap on the back and kiss on the cheek.
“I have brought you some wools!” Gregor exclaimed, well pleased with himself.
“I had been hoping that you might. The Brothers keep giving all their clothing and blankets away.”
Francis sighed as he pried open the lid of the basket. The cloth was extremely fine - but to his disappointment it was dyed all the colours of the rainbow.
Gregor read his cousin’s expression. “Franco - these are the off-cuts - and modesty grey is not the fashion these days.”
“I know, I know. Do not think me unthankful, you have been most kind.”
A few weeks later when Hannah-Mary had fashioned her best, the people of the town had yet one more sly observation about Francis and his fellows.
“Reformation of the Church is it? Wearing such colours! What will it be next? This garish crazed sect will never become popular!” they exclaimed with contempt and imposing righteousness.
- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances
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