*an orange glow of flame centered just above the palm of her hands is reflected in her silver aviator glasses. The glow brightens as she drags a deep breath from the clove cigarette held between her red painted lips. She closes her fist and the flame expires before she smiles and breathes out the sweet scented smoke.*So you want to know how a girl like me ends up being a nun? Simple really. She's forced into it.
*a long drag on her cigarette*
The Man called me to be a nun when I was 23. I told him no. He begged to differ. Within a year I'd lost my job - company folded entirely, I was pegged with some kind of black mark on my resume and no one would hire me, I couldn't even flip burgers if I'd wanted to. Then my apartment burned down, that is to say that the buildings within a five mile radius of my apartment also burned down. And one by one my friends left me. Some died, some were in tragic accidents, some were killed, one moved to Utah. I had nothing. So God called me back and asked me again, so I said yes.
Went to a nunnery - but not the fun kind. Told a few lies, stretched a few truths, convinced them that I was a honest to goodness woman of the cloth, they put me up for a few years and here I am today. Not sure if I am any better or worse off for it, but I have a job and it keeps me busy. My ability to manipulate fire is a Gift From Heaven. Or a Curse From Hell, we aren't too sure yet. And they told me I needed to do good in the community - as far as what that means, well, they were pretty non-specific.
So here I am. Hired on as a teacher in the great School of St. Joseph - not exactly sure what I am qualified to teach. Chemistry is out on account of my flammability. Someone is already teaching Home Ec but really, I can cook frozen pizza and microwave popcorn and I have the phone number for a maid service memorized, I don't do laundry, I just get another habit. Maybe there is a position open for Librarian? Quiet is really a relative term.
