[ CHAPTER 41 ] - ( THE PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA ) - { PT. 1 }

( CHAPTER  41 )  -  { PT.  1 }                                  A dreamy image, vivid with colour, Angelica's chest rose and fell in perfect synchronicity. Christiano found it comforting to watch. He moved across and planted his lips on hers. She smiled and opened her sleepy eyes to look up at him. Suddenly, her smile fade, and her eyes screamed in terror as the distance between them grew rapidly. Christiano was adrift, like an unbound air balloon floating into the night sky. He watched helplessly, his arms reached out as Angelica made frantic grasps for her hands. His tormented gaze remained fixed on her shrinking form until she was no more. Christiano gasped for breath. He opened his eyes just a crack to a disorientation of blurred images, each one superimposed over the other. A sharp pounding in his head was an unwelcome reminder of what had happened. Clanging noises reverberated around him as if he was in the deepest depths of a dungeon, and a metallic smell, putrid with death, clung to the air. He tried to raise his collapsed neck; every movement was excruciating. A round table to his right gradually came into focus. A line of peculiar objects he could not identify lined the stained plastic sheet at the far end of the table. He squeezed his eyes shut, blinking several times in an attempt to adjust. A row of finger stumps--at least five and a thumb--formed a clear and undisputable image.                                      ________________________________________________________  

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