Woman in prayer

Place:                 La Noisette
Items:                 Pen, notebook, Moccachino (thanks Llara for introducing me to them)
People:               Lydia and myself
Assignment:      Write about a woman in prayer

Marie-Claude's knees hurt as she knelt in the centuries-old church. She glanced at her watch. Seven and a half minutes to go..."Hail Mary full of . . ." don't let my mind wander "...full of grace..."

A man walked down the aisle . ..  "blessed art thou . . ." He looked like Jean-Paul, her non-dearly departed husband ". . .among women . . ." Where was she? . . . "The Lord is with  . . . "

Damn. She thinks, damn doesn't belong in the middle of her rosary. ". . . Where was she again? Oh yes, ". . .thee. And blessed be the fruit of thy womb . . ." Jesus. Not Jesus as in "blessed be the fruit of thy womb, Jesus" but in Jesus she had a cramp in her leg and it hurt like hell.

She refused to stand and walk on the leg. Her penance for hating Jean-Paul and for hastening his death was to go go church every day and say 15 minutes of rosary.

"Holy Mary, Mother . . ." Damn that leg hurt. Probably Jean-Paul, buried outside the church was cursing her ". . .Mother of God. Pray for us sinners . . ."

Marie-Claude looked at her watch. Time was up. Tomorrow, same time, same place.

She limped from the church.