The small Baroque church of Santa Giuliana in Trastevere huddled in a corner of the warm Roman night. The streets were blue and motionless, illuminated only by the hushed light of a streetlamp from the square nearby.
Then there was a sound. Inside the church.
It was the faintest scream of metal on metal, barely perceptible in daylight, but now like a shriek of white against black. Then it stopped. The sound had been only momentary, but it echoed.
From out of the belly of the sealed church, a bird rose. A pigeon fluttered frantically along the shadowy chapel walls and swooped through the vaults and down the transept, carving a path blindly through the inky cavernous interior.
And then the alarm went off.
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Churches are eerie enough places at the best of times, even more so at night time. Then to suddenly hear what must have been that high pitched scream of metal on metal, would have had me heading for the hills!
I am assuming that the ‘she’ referred to in the words, is a painting or artefact of some description and that as she is ‘waiting’, there is a robbery about to take place and someone is inside the church.
Great opening to the story!
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