Today's OneWord: Birds

There was a cold wind blowing against the stained glass window of the church, and no birds were singing; their whistling tunes would be drowned out by the organ player, who was practicing on a Monday evening, when only one person was in the confessional. The person in the confessional was young, weeping; in her hands she clasped a crystal rosary, trying to pray away a sinful part of herself.

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