Beneath a dark cloak, hood hovering over its captor's head, resided James Norrington himself. His fresh, black polished boots echoed through the empty church's pew, the only object on his person fully revealed. The chagrin etches of his face were disguised beneath the shadows of his coat. Embarrassment flooded over his appearance, intensity rising with each step he took. He settled himself beside the screen.
James had never been a man of God. He never fully grasped a concept of hope in his hands and never held more than a second's spark of faith. Times were changing and twists of fate were falling between his fingers. Those are such times when one human being's soul requires something definite. And you know, inspiration was a stronger flood than embarrassment.
His handsome voice fell over the silence.
"Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been thirty two long years since my last confession." He lowered to a whisper. "Thirty two years of idiocy in never finding myself."
"God is a forgiving man, James. What requires his forgiveness?"
"Father, what is my sin, Father? My sin is abandoning my loyal duties for my own moral weaknesses, for putting my selfish needs before anyone else's."
He stopped his own words from further spilling from his pink lips. He allowed no opportunity for a priest's response. He waltzed himself right outside into the pouring rain with no intent other than to reach his horses and return to his mansion.
Thick raindrops pelted over his paled face while hooves raced across the fresh mud. He was a determined man, intent on finishing right were he most pleased. When the steps ceased, he wasn't before the Norrington mansion. --