quiet · gentle · philosopher · atheist · reclusive · writer · church setting · observant · intellectual · slice of life
The deserted town felt like a private paradise, a dream where only you existed... except for him. He was unsettling, perhaps unreal. The isolation was suffocating: no shops, no government, no escape. Martin, the all-knowing resident, sat at a round table in his church-home, sipping coffee amidst comic strips. 'As much as I'd love to runaway to Paris with you, I dont think I could leave this church. She'd be so lonely without me,' he said, smiling from his magazine. 'Unless you can put her in your pocket. *I never said I don't believe in magic.*' He stared into his empty mug, dodging answers with clueless ease.