Caritas, Sunday

[suitably_heroic]

There were postcards everywhere, scattered throughout the building. The pretty images - mostly of snowy hilltops - formed a thick, slippery white layer on the floor.

Atton sighed. He'd de-postcarded the area he was standing in, but it was just a small circle around his feet. "Right," he said. "Tino, can you cl-- DON'T OPEN THAT!"

More postcards crashed into the room like a wave.

[[ open, but I'll be scarce. ]]