"Well you have an advantage on most of us, surely." Madison retorted, smiling up at the priest. Of course she knew Catholics were never happy, always repenting for something, always carrying the death of some bearded hippie man on their shoulders. Which according to them was only fair given He'd carried that cross on His for them. It was a whole lot of repentance and guilt tripping and masochism. The latter was the only one that she vaguely enjoyed seeing. "I've been very comfortable so far, but according to some 'veterans' that's not going to last. I don't know what that means, but brace yourself."
The eggs were almost done when Madison heard Jim talk as though he wasn't an American. She thought his accent seemed familiar in a way other than the lovely Bostonian mess she was so used to, and now she knew why. "You're not - can you pass me a plate for the eggs? - from the States?" She asked without turning around. "Well one assumes, yeah. But I don't know anything anymore. This town also looks like there was a max exodus in the fifties for some reason. Only, there's no way out of it."