The very next morning Brother Juice rose to see the sun climbing arduously over the horizon, his work was now clear, he packed his few belongings,and his Bible, and set off, feeling a sense of freedom as he looked back to see the Abbey appear further and further away, until the huge stone edifice was obscured by trees and rolling hills.

He’d never felt like this before, had only engaged himself with God’s work previously, he had a long journey ahead, and a sense of purpose, the guilt he felt was lessening with every step, as he made his way to Plymouth, where he would embark on a never ending journey, seeking perfection. Perfection wasn’t an ideal to anyone in the monastery, and Brother Gallon’s paunchy face as he joked with the novices was there, taunting him as he travelled from continent to continent, seeking out the rarest and finest single estate tobaccos the world had to offer.

ship set sail

After 7 long years he returned to the Abbey ,he’d missed the peace, the silence and couldn’t shake the image of Brother Gallon’s fat sweaty face looking at him with a smug sense of superiority.

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