This week’s 100-word story is inspired by this photograph provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
Brother Ambrose softly hefted the bag of newly ground rye over his shoulder muttering yet another prayer.
Everyone was at Matins, so he was safe. This would make many loaves of bread for the orphan children in the village.
In the seven years he’d been at the monastery, he’d stolen countless bushels of food. If the abbot, discovered his theft he’d be punished for a year, he was sure; but, aye, it would be worth it to see the foundlings eat.
His only justification was that somewhere out there one of those foundling children might be his own.