A Sin of the Flesh
Copyright November 2012, Sofia Bane
“Ackley! Barber! Durham! Ford!” one of the senior seminarians, a young man named Turley, rattled off. He motioned us into what would be our dormitory for the next five years.
I hoisted my bag of books upon my shoulder, but the weight threw me off-balance enough that I then struggled to also grab my suitcase. The young man beside me – the one named Barber? – grabbed the handle and pushed it into my hand. “’Ere you are.”
Behind me, I thought I heard titters of laughter – presumably directed at me. “Thank you,” I said stiffly, retreating into the dorm.
That was Jim Barber, I learned as we each introduced ourselves as we unpacked. Jim was affable, with hair a bit too long and curly to be entirely respectable. John Ackley was mousy, while Roger Ford was brash, and would likely see more than his fair share of disciplinary action. And I, Christopher Durham…well, I didn’t even know whether I should even be here.