Who: Chiara di Palermo and Zipporah Bakst What: A gift When: Sunday afternoon, November 19th, 1888 Where: Zipporah's home Rating: Low Warnings: probably none
Chiara had ordered this particular item some months ago, and it had taken this long to be prepared, to be created and sent to her. It had arrived on Friday, late, but Sunday afternoon was the first opportunity she had to deliver it to its intended recipient - because she was adamant that she do it in person. This was too precious to be left to anyone but herself.
And yet... Chiara wouldn't pretend she truly understood the significant of what she held. Yes, intellectually she knew what it was and what it represented, but she had never been a truly religious person. What had God, or the gods, done for her? All that she had and all that she was, she owed to Vittoria, not to any nebulous deities.
Still, she viewed faith as being similar to a thick, warm blanket. Just because she, Chiara, wasn't particularly "cold", didn't mean she had the right (or even the desire) to whip the "blanket" off someone else who was "cold". Maybe she wasn't a believer herself, but she also wasn't a complete pig.
The sun was beginning to dip in the sky, late that Sunday afternoon when she knocked on Zipporah's door. The gift, she held carefully in her arms, wrapped (she smirked slightly to herself) wrapped in a brand new, white woolen blanket.