The huge oak door closed behind him with a heavy thump, causing birds nesting in the eaves to flutter and flap. His footsteps echoed throughout the ancient church as he made his way to the pulpit, and looking out at the empty pews he wondered if they would still be empty when he delivered his first sermon the following Sunday.
Angus, the previous vicar, was old-school fire-and-brimstone; no matter how perfect a life you lived, you were always a sinner. He wondered what Angus would have thought of him; according to the Bible, there was no doubting his sins.
Taking this job seemed like an opportunity to start afresh – what was he thinking? If homophobia was rife on the mainland, it was hardly likely to be better in a close-knit society on a remote island where sheep outnumbered people.
Patrick had faced bigotry most of his life, but while a lot of his friends were happy to play the respectable role, he made no secret of who he was, and challenged abuse head-on when faced with it. Maybe that was why he came, to spread tolerance the way missionaries spread Christianity.
Wrapping his thick woollen coat around him to keep out the chill, he left the building and headed off across open fields toward the village to introduce himself to the locals.
The land was cloaked in a soft mist, and the village, with its grey granite buildings, could barely be seen rising from the fog in the distance, adding to his sense of foreboding. When he reached the town he saw a splash of colour breaking the monochrome tableau, for there before him, straddling the width of the High Street hung a banner which read “Welcome to Craighly, Reverend Patrick” and above that, a row of rainbow flags.
John Keogh began writing short stories and flash fiction when he retired at the start of 2023. A keen amateur photographer and musician, he likes to tap into his experiences to create stories which engage and surprise. He lives in Liverpool, England and is married with four adult children.
Lovely ending!
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