A scout followed Gavin, the young preacher that had interrupted the sheriff’s briefing. He pulled his brand-new pickup into the driveway of an older house, located in a little residential area about fifteen minutes outside of town.

He turned the engine off, sat there for almost a full minute, before getting out. The walk up the sidewalk to the door was taken at a slow pace, he hesitated before knocking. A middle-aged woman answered the door.

Her sunglasses and pet German shepherd were hints that she was blind. But the thousand occulted eyes of our scout saw past the tinted lenses, saw the dead eyes that they concealed.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Mom,” Gavin said, “its me.”

She smiled and bade him enter her home, which he dutifully did.

The house was clean but lived in. Shelves were lined with many rows of books, all of them written in braille. She turned off the TV, which was tuned to a news program, the current subject of which was the crash of an experimental aircraft.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Gavin, I want you to go talk to the neighbors.”

“Why? What did they do now?”

“They play loud music all the time! You know how it is for me, my hearing is so sensitive! It kills me when they play that heavy rock ‘n’ metal garbage!”

“I’ll talk to them. I know their daughter. She was a cheerleader, used to go to the church.”

Lust peaked out from behind a carefully crafted and maintained veil when he spoke of the girl.

“Church, church, church,” the mother chided her son, “That’s all you talk about. Why are you so obsessed with that place?”

“It’s my faith.”

“That’s not how I raised you.”

“I saw the light, and so can you.”

“Its all hogwash,” she declared with a dismissive gesture, “I hate that you let them brainwash you.”

“They didn’t, it’s what I believe. I want to do good.”

“Well, I guess I should respect that. I just think that you’re too smart for that place. And besides, you can do good without joining a religion.”

“No, nowhere else does as much good. It has to be backed up with faith.”

“I disagree. But whatever makes you happy. I ju-” she was cut off by a thunderous barrage of sound.

She grimaced, put her hands to her ears as the music slammed into them. Frowning, Gavin left, walked to the house next door. He returned fifteen minutes later. The music stopped and did not start again.