Alfred was in church late Sunday morning when he received a new text. After a minute or two, he began to fidget in the pew, fiddling with the old, time worn bible in his hands. The thin pages were open to the hymns that they normally sung when instructed - not that he needed the reference as he knew most of them by heart, but it was more a habit of years spent touching the same soft pages as he listened to sermon after sermon. Subtly he glanced about himself. He was wedged between Matthew and his teacher Mr. Carriedo. Matthew shot him an irritated glance as Alfred crossed and uncrossed his legs several times, wondering how badly he would be scolded for pulling his phone out as Father Feliciano began a new passage; his accented voice smooth and calming as he spoke of the troubles of today’s world.
( Alfred had a feeling that this was going to be a good year. )