Rick sat with a plank of wood in his hand, knife in the other, carving absentmindedly as he watched the children play. Rays of light showering down through the churche decorated window, like droplets down a waterfall, like pebbles in a rockfall, like angels from the skies. It was picturesque, beautiful, wonderfu. The first rays of the day, the ball in the sky welcoming morning after being hidden for an entire week.

Rick enjoyed the moment, even as he carved without passion, without purpose. Well, without purpose was a strong word, as Rick were carving them for Noah, carved for the betterment of the church of charity. But Rick lacked the drive, the will, the purpose to make these statues, living. But Rick didn’t mind, didn’t dwell on it, for Noah was a kind pastor, he’d done so much for Rick without asking for much, only to make “toys”. A simple exchange for warmth and comfort, for satisfaction and feeling content, things Rick had lacked for the better part of his life.

Rick carved as he watched the kids play, played with his statues, laughter filled with innocence, filled with happiness, filled with a sense of wonder. The kids filling Rick’s heart with a light feeling, like sleeping on a soft bed, like stretching after working out, like dancing to good music. Yes, this place was perfect, amazing even. This church of charity was true to its name, a place for charity, to give other's good emotions.

Turning his head down, Rick looked at what he was working on, a new statue made to look like a dragon, placed on top of a table charitably given to him by Noah. A workplace made to be comfortable and away from others, placed near the corner of the church, perfect for Rick, giving him space to work and be alone. To his right sat a smaller table, more of a chunk of flattened log, filled to the brim with different statues, or toys as Noah would call them. Rick looked at them, stared for a moment, feeling nothing from the sight, as if staring at stranger’s from afar, as if being told about events miles away from home.

He sighed at the sight, pride he thought non-existent bleeding as he stared at them. Even if Noah called them amazing, even if the kids in the church reacted with joy upon receiving one. Rick couldn’t shake the feeling that all of them were failures, lacking the important ingredient of life, life he knew to be fake, but comforting to him. He shook the thought away. Not something to dwell on, something that would only bring bad thoughts. Instead, he continued carving the dragon, letting his eyes scan the church.

Even if his stay at this church had been short, the church felt like a nostalgic memory, like looking at a painting done as a child, like a statue made by inexperienced hands, lovingly turned to life.

He looked around, stopping as his eyes met the darkest place in the room, a single candle lighting it up, placed beside a girl, a little girl, the owl girl. A big blanket over her body with yet another new book in her hands. She read with deft expertise, words or numbers, Rick couldn’t tell. He watched the girl as he carved, seeing her expression stay the same, but sometimes jump up in her seat, as if something shocking had happened, as if a monster had beset the hero, as if the mountains had shook, as if someone had won. Rick smiled inwardly at the reaction, happy that the girl wasn’t emotionless, feeling as if she was like him, hard of showing.

He turned back to his dragon, raising it far above his head, trying to bring it into the light of the sun, giving him a better view of it. He turned it from side to side, searching for imperfections, for flaws, finding many. He sighed, turning his head back towards the girl, doing it unconsciously, finding her staring wide eyed at his hand. Rick shook his head in surprise, turning to see what the girl was looking at, seeing the dragon. He turned back to watch the girl, seeing her quickly pushing her head down into the book, casting quick glances at both the dragon and Rick, avoiding Rick's eyes.

Rick looked back and forth, at the girl and the dragon, pondering what it meant. A mischievous side within Rick sparking to life, a mischievous side born from the anger he had felt when the girl scoffed at his earlier statues. A mischievous side born from pride unknown to Rick. Rick stood up, bringing with him the knife and dragon, walking towards the girl. The girl noticing it quickly as she was already watching, hiding behind her book even further, one eye slightly above it to watch him. He neared quickly; the girl avoiding his eyes, staring intently at the dragon.

When Rick came within a leg’s length away, he stopped, the girl shuffling weakly away, still staring at the dragon. Rick sat down on the bench, the girl sliding to the opposite side. Rick turned to look at the girl, raised his knife, then turned his attention down and started carving the dragon. He made it look like he was fully attentive to the task of carving, but in reality casting glances at the little girl. The girl doing the same, pretending to read her book, being obviously interested in him carving the dragon.

The two in a dance of pretend for several minutes, minutes that Rick enjoyed, minutes that were far too many for the simple carving, already being completed. Still, he kept at it, casting glances at the little girl, seeing her completely enthralled, captivated, staring with wonder in her eyes. Rick wondered why. Why was this statue the one she liked? Why was this the one she took any interest in?

Rick feigned a yawn, putting the dragon down beside him as he closed his eyes, carefully placing the dragon so it faced the girl. But Rick hadn’t closed his eyes, keeping a small opening, just enough to look at the girl, small enough to still look like sleeping.

He saw the girl turn her eyes up, looking at Rick, waiting a whole minute. And while the minute passed, she turned her head to and fro, at Rick and the dragon. As more minutes passed, her eyes drew fully down on the dragon. Her eyes like those of a child seeing a passing warrior, a passing hero, a passing mage. She looked up again, then down at the dragon, shuffling a little closer.

Even more minutes passing by, each minute the girl creeping a little closer, each creep followed with an intense stare at Rick’s face. Rick being highly amused by the whole affair, even pretending to snore, a snore soundless yet effective. The girl growing braver and braver, shuffling closer and closer, and with time, within arms-length from the dragon. She slowly reached for it, eyes glued on Rick’s closed eyes, her eyes big like the sun and moon, like the sea and river, like a mom and dad.

She grabbed the dragon in one swift motion, shuffling away in a ruckus of sound, unbelievably unsneaky, unexpectantly hilarious. The girl breathed heavily, staring at Rick, waiting for a reaction, a reaction Rick desperately held back. And with enough time, time that Rick managed to not react too, the girl smiled. A first for Rick to see, she even held the dragon high as if having received the greatest trophy.

She then pulled it in, in into an embrace, closing her eyes as she held it close. Rick took the opportunity to open his eyes, seeing her more clearly, shuffling a little closer, feeling his mischievous side screaming out in absolute joy. He shuffled closer, soundlessly, being a mere hand length away. The girl not noticing, being in a world of her own, a world where she was hugging a dragon.

But eventually, she opened her eyes, met with the surprising sight of a man being very close. She blinked twice, thrice, then yelped in a high-pitched squeal, sounding like a bird being scared. Her mouth opened, eyes enlarged, staring at Rick in alarm. Seconds ticked by as Rick simply stared at her, inside laughing like a maniac, the two in a standoff, one not realizing, the other terrified. Eventually, the girl acted first, taking the dragon and offering it back to Rick, her head bowed down as if surrendering it to an enemy general. Rick watched, amused. Quickly realizing that he might have been a little too mean to the girl. Amusement turning to shame.

Rick scratched at the back of his head, wondering what he should do. This wasn’t a part of his plan, not that he had had one to begin with, just wanting to tease her. Seconds turned to a minute, Rick seeing the girl starting to shiver slightly, looking like the sight of a child scared senseless, a sight he’d seen just recently, a sight he wished to never see again.

With a snap of his wrist, Rick took the dragon, the girl turning her head up by the surprising way Rick had grabbed the dragon, exposing eyes slightly moist. Rick felt the shame well up even further, finding himself at a loss. So he did what any normal adult would do. He stood up, dragon held high above his head, and started spinning, holding the dragon out as if it was flying. He spun with such finesse that a rock would be jealous, with such speed that a snail would be jealous, with such grace that a sloth would be jealous.

But he kept spinning, turning the spin into a jump, into an expression of freight, pretending the dragon chasing him, feasting for him, falling down on the bench, his rump stinging slightly, a worthy sacrifice. He then held the dragon high and made an expression of shock, of being scared, terrified. Then he made the dragon dive down, down at his neck, biting down like a starving dog, killing him with a spurt of invisible blood.

Rick fell down on the bench, dead by the hand-claws of the dragon. A play he hoped was convincing. And as he lay splayed out, dead on the bench, he opened one eye slightly, gauging his audience reaction. Seeing the girl staring weirdly at him, the moistness gone, replaced by sheer confusion, of bafflement. A reaction that made Rick’s cheek turn to red roses, awfully hot, his back growing wet. The two being silent like the deepest forest, one trapped in their mind, one wondering what the heck they had just watched. Time like the slowest boulder, like the building of a church, like a bucket being filled by droplets.

But eventually, the silence was broken, broken by a very quiet and small laugh, a laugh hidden behind a small hand. A laugh that brought overwhelming shame to Rick, shame so strong that spilling hot tea on ones trousers would be preferable. Falling down a cold river would be nicer, embarrassment like the sharpest knife.

Rick quickly unfolded from his lying state, up and sitting on the bench, pretending everything was alright, his face exposing the truth, being far too red. The girl doing her best to quell her laugh, a laugh that was silent, barely audible, but to Rick’s shamed mind, like the loudest dragon, like a clock at night, like neighbours while trying to sleep.

The nail in the coffin, the sword in his gut, the fire that broke the camel's back, was the girl uttering three words. Three simple words being the first he had heard from the girl. Three simple words enough to break Rick’s spirit, enough to shame him to his very core, death being preferable.

“You are weird.”

He couldn’t help it, Rick burrowed his face in his hands, turning away from the little girl. He couldn’t handle it, handle how stupid he must have looked, how embarrassing he must have been, how utterly unbefitting an adult he must have seemed. Peaking through clenched fingers, Rick looked around the church, seeing some children looking at him, some laughing. If it were laughter brought up from Rick’s shameful display, he could only assume.

Rick turned back to the little girl, peaking through fingers that hid his face. Seeing the girl smiling, a smile of innocence, of happiness. A smile that reached her eyes and said, look at me. She looked up at Rick, the two staring at one another. Slowly, ever so slowly, her expression changed, turning back to a neutral one, one that said, I don’t care. One that wasn’t completely honest, as her face was growing slightly flushed, slightly pink.

She turned away from Rick, looking down at her book, bringing the book close to her face, too close to read, casting a quick glance at Rick, then the dragon lying on the ground.

Rick slowly moved his hands away from his face, letting them fall down his sides, looking down on the dragon. The dragon looking back, a smirk on its face, a smirk brough on by Rick’s fantasy, a smirk that said, you deserved that. Rick frowned at the fantasy and grabbed the dragon. His attention caught by the girl as she turned to look, looking away as she saw Rick looking at her. But as Rick continued looking, she brought the book up, covering her face, a face in a brighter hue of pink.

Turning to the dragon, then back at the girl, Rick made an easy decision. He tapped the front of the book, forcing the attention of the girl back at him, the girl looking at Rick with a warm face. Rick then gestured the dragon forward, holding it like a gift.

The girl hesitating, staring from side to side as if thinking hard on a puzzle. Seconds ticking by, but the answer being obvious. She grabbed the dragon, holding it close to her chest, holding it like her book. Pulling the two items up and hiding herself meekly behind them. Looking up at Rick, she then mouthed a thank you.

The two nodding at one another, the two sitting beside each other, the two making no moves to go away. The two in a comfortable silence, one reading, one contemplating. Both being content, enjoying the moment.