Peace


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O’Malley shivered in his winter coat and hurried over to the almost buried car. Behind him, he could hear his radio in the tractor broadcasting another weather report. He didn’t really trust all the forecasts, but last night’s had been on the money. He wiped the frozen snow off a door window and peered inside. All he saw was darkness, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone inside.

He wiped a drift of snow of the front window and looked more closely. The car was empty. Letting out a relieved breath, he made his way to the next car. His boots sank into the snow, making a loud crunching sound. He removed the snow faster off this one and discovered it empty as well.

Smiling, O’Malley went back to his tractor and climbed inside. Starting up the engine, he set off again at almost a turtle’s pace. He glanced back in his mirror at the cars and noted that they were the fourth and fifth cars he had come across. Over the next hill he saw a church and knowing the vicar there, decided to call upon him.

Pulling the tractor up and cutting the engine, O’Malley jumped out and walked through the snow covered graveyard and to the door. Opening it, a blast of warm air hit his face and he could smell candle wax. Walking in, he found a group of people sat in the front pews, with the vicar and his wife tending to them. He nodded, knowing these were the people from the cars and that because the church had given then sanctuary in the night, they all had survived.

these were the people from the cars and that because the church had given then sanctuary in the night, they all had survived.

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