Private Conversations

[dominioned]

The confessional before you is ornate and well maintained, ebony colored wood embellished with the visage of two angels. A jet black curtain separates the confessional from the rest of the Church, offering a surprising degree of privacy to any eavesdroppers nearby. Unlike the rest of Krakow, the inside is dimly lit by a small light bulb securely attached to the ceiling which emits a faint red light. While the atmosphere isn't exactly cozy, it is private.

A smooth voice calls out to you once you've sat down, familiar enough to identify the speaker despite the partition between you.

"Welcome welcome. I take it something is on your mind?"

We're in a museum now, Harry.

Comments

Wednesday

[notbymyside]

[Back to the confessional he goes!]

'Forgive me father, for I have sinned.' ...that's how it goes, right?

[He's not Christian he sure doesn't know.]

[dominioned]

Correct. And how many days has it been since your last confession? [ Guess we're following the script, kinda. ]

[notbymyside]

[Give him a moment he has to count.]

...nine days?

[Last Monday to now, nine days by his count.]

[dominioned]

Very well. And what sins may I relieve you of today?

[notbymyside]

I'm coveting food that isn't local to this area. Is there any way to get rice and fish, or will I need to repent and eat more pierogies?

[dominioned]

...you do realize there's an aquarium available to you now. [ He's probably joking. ]

[notbymyside]

Wrong kind of fish. And that doesn't solve the problem of rice.

[dominioned]

Indeed it does not. [ He hums. ]

What dish would you make if those ingredients were available to you?