Night on Alvernia – The Friday Fictioneers


Francisco walked through the trees of Mount Alvernia, alone with his thoughts.  His companions had withdrawn to their huts for prayer.  He grabs a branch and pulls himself up to a small ledge; he winces at the pain from the exertion.  He also feels the pain from the burden on his shoulders.  How will he govern so many brothers?  How will he continue to inspire them; so easy when there was only twelve of them?  He looks up and gazes on Sister Moon through the branches.  He feels a slight breeze; he raises his arms, “My God and my All!”

(Very late, I know!  I hope you enjoy it!)