A lonely bench stood in front of a church in the far end of town. In most cases such a church would be of little significance. That was indeed true for some, but for others it was a warm and welcoming house the townsfolk were accustomed to visiting every Sunday with the promise of a heavenly choir, arranged by most of the mothers in town and featuring their daughters, a priest that read the same verses from the bible every week always with the same abhorrent and loathing views of anything considered different or peculiar in any way, pastries and bitter coffee accompanied by equally bitter smalltalk, and last but not least the everlasting thought that they would not by any chance - under any circumstances - burn in hell. Other than that the townsfolk lived simple repetitive lives like most others of the time. Perfectly content with the colourlessness of which their lives were defined.  One could argue that the roofs soft green hue was one of the few things of proper interest in town. Not for the pop of colour it granted it’s all white exterior, -most of the town’s houses were painted in pastel colours anyways, making a beautiful washed out rainbow- but for the controversy involving the subject and the many court meetings held to decide it’s fate. Taking an astonishing 3 years before the decision was final. The consensus being that the church would keep it’s “ugly damn green metal, garbage, roof!” as one of the older townsmen put it, throwing in some exceedingly racist slurs even he thought were a bit over the top.  The town was located on the further end of a fairly sized peninsula on an island no bigger than the peninsula itself. This year a thick blanket of snow had covered everything within the its reaches and up onto the mountains.  An old woman walked past and swore to herself, “Damn town gets colder ev’ry year” she said. The old woman was indeed right. It had gotten exceedingly cold that year. Few townsfolk looked past what they thought to be an epidemic. The need to give supposedly witty comments on the weather was reaching new heights. Some thought that to be a good thing, more to talk about. Others dreaded the idea of there being more small talk than before. Those people sat inside and stared at the cold unforgiving doings of their beloved weather god. The Church bell struck 15:45

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