[He hasn't been asked often what his home was like; he can't say that he minds the question, though his gaze darts a bit as he makes himself recall it. It isn't difficult to pull up, the images and the homes and the faces; it's a little surreal to be doing it while he's with someone else.]
For most of my life, I lived on an island. A small fishing community up north. It was cold often; times were pretty hard. The community itself was... Well, the sign said 127 people, but it hadn't been updated in a while. I'd probably say about a hundred, give or take. I knew more or less everyone personally, though not all of them were faithful.
It was peaceful. There wasn't much there - a couple of unpaved streets, a general store, and the church. But it was a community, it was home. I imagined that either the community would die or I'd die serving it, but I was all right with that notion.
no subject
For most of my life, I lived on an island. A small fishing community up north. It was cold often; times were pretty hard. The community itself was... Well, the sign said 127 people, but it hadn't been updated in a while. I'd probably say about a hundred, give or take. I knew more or less everyone personally, though not all of them were faithful.
It was peaceful. There wasn't much there - a couple of unpaved streets, a general store, and the church. But it was a community, it was home. I imagined that either the community would die or I'd die serving it, but I was all right with that notion.