"Oh dear," moaned Antony, "what treachery lies before us today?"
With a fierce clang, the bells of the overly exorbitantly extravagant cathedral struck with such a force that, although the noise was regular, it sent birds fluttering through the air in disillusionment. Today was the day the Arch Bishop was returning from his prior pilgrimage to Loyola, a seaport off the eastern shores of Southern Italy. No one was quite sure of the Arch Bishop's motives for visiting the forgotten town, but the news of his return, as was expected, was the typcial excessively zealous celebration thrown by the Church.
His eyes shielded with palm, Antony peered to the morning sun, luminous as it rose to claim this hallowed day. He turned abruptly as a seemingly stranger grabbed his wrists from behind and proceeded to maneuver the bewildered creature into a headock.
"I MUST say!" shouted Antony with a tone of both sarcasm and anoyance.
Exerpt From Chronicles of the Papacy
