The Olive Grove

The priest was a small man,slightly hunched over, with a tilted gait, so that he never looked like he was standing strait, nor did he ever look completely crooked. He just looked slightly off. I would sometime run into him on my daily walks, usually as he was coming out of the church onto his morning commitments, which always carried him with a quick step that was well directed towards some significant purpose. Most likely he was on his way to pay a visit to someone homebound and sick. He carried his black bible on his right hand as his left hand slightly extended towards his back. I thought it strange that a man so young would walk like that, but i was merely going for a walk and the priest was going his way, and what did it matter how he walked, so long as he arrived well and with good intention. I decided to take the left flank of the small village, and found myself on a small and beaten trail that veered into an un fenced olive grove, of which had recently been picked. The Olive trees seemed somewhat worn and tired and a rusted latter still remained suspended against one of the trees. There was an old gray bucket on the ground with its bottom torn and partly open. The stillness was in the air to the point I could here small birds chirping clearly, and the rustle of the remaining leaves could be heard as well. For a moment i heard a sound, but was not sure. I thought it might be one of the small birds that found its home there, or perhaps my own careless step on a loose rock. But there were no rocks around me and the birds were gathered on a distant tree. I heard the sound again coming from the edge of the grove. It was a rustling sound, but with vigor and intention, that I could not think it natural. I stepped slowly towards the sound. My feet crunching the grounded leaves as I neared the source. This time all was quite and still. Suddenly, There was an explosion of movement. The birds fluttered, and I saw a dark figure runing down the hill. He ran slowly and somewhat hunched towards his right side. He mumbled with anger and was pressed physically as he made his way down the hill away from the Olive grove.