Halloween night has arrived at the Convent of Immaculate Discretion.
And, against all odds, the convent is still standing.
Candles light the corridors, pumpkins discreetly watch over the windows, and autumn leaves have taken over every corner of the pantry.
Everything seems peaceful.
It only seems that way.
Inside, Sister Potato and Sister Piety have decided that Halloween is the perfect occasion to reorganize the provisions.
No one has dared to ask what exactly “reorganize” means in their vocabulary.
Sister Chastity, meanwhile, is trying to keep the Institutional Innocence intact, a task that presents extraordinary difficulties tonight.
And while all this is happening, Mother Patience walks through the convent with the expression of someone who has already seen things she would never want to see again.
Poor Mother Patience.
In the pantry, however, there are two spectators watching the scene with growing concern.
Aurelius and Gregorius.
—Aurelius…
—Yes, Gregorius?
—This is Halloween night, right?
—Correct.
Gregorius looked at the pumpkins.
The candles.
The provisions.
Sister Potato.
Sister Piety.
And finally Mother Patience, who had just discovered that someone had moved three jars.
—Aurelius…
—Yes?
—Do you think Halloween has something to do with punishment for our past lives?
Aurelius thought for a few moments.
—I don’t know, Gregorius.
Pause.
—But I’m beginning to suspect we must have been very bad people.
Gregorius nodded solemnly.
From the back of the pantry came Sister Potato’s voice:
—Sooor Piet-yyyy…! Where are the eggplants?
Silence.
Mother Patience closed her eyes.
Aurelius and Gregorius looked at each other.
And that Halloween night, at the Convent of Immaculate Discretion, nobody asked any more questions.
For the sake of survival.
