Gifted Shadows

“Innocent, Not good, Unchained, black and white, bat saves” he kept muttering, roaming the streets of Pauvre de Lais. He hated the darkness and the rain. They often remind him of himself. 

“Hatred, Love, Death, Life. All are one and the same.” 

People were staring. As usual, like they always do. He covered the black cloak over his head. He planned on paying a visit to La Statue de la Sainte Mère de Dieu so as to confess his sins. 

“Sins, Lost souls, white not black.” That was his favorite line in Saint Livre de Prières his mother chanted to him every night when he was little.