“Where did you find it?”
“In the bushes.”
“It’s Gunther’s. He probably took it off and left it there. He hates wearing it. Says it feels like an extra foot. Stay for a cup of tea?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“By the way, before his unfortunate accident, Gunther and I were in Hamburg. I thought I saw your son, the priest.”
“Jürgen?”
“Yes, but Gunther said it wasn’t him.”
“Why not?”
“Well, he wasn’t wearing the black robe priests wear.”
“His cassock.”
“He was dressed as a civilian and holding hands with a black girl. Gunther was right. It wasn’t him.
100 Words
This post is for the Friday’s Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. You can find this week’s prompt here. To read other stories or to participate, click here.
Notes to Women 
Dear Adele,
Busted. Let the defrocking begin.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Dear Rochelle,
Yes. He was planning to leave the priesthood and marry the girl, but if he’s caught before then and this time, by someone who belongs to his congregation, he will be reported and defrocked.
Shalom,
Adel
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It was him, wasnt he? Nicely woven.
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Yes, it was him, Dahlia. Thank you 🙂
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