02-15-2024, 11:22 PM
Ezvin hadn’t visited the church in a while. He’d been busy, but he was always busy, and for some reason, this evening he had to urge to go wandering. He assumed it was because he had a lot on his mind, and when in this mood, it was to music that he turned. He was at home, strumming away at an acoustic guitar, tweaking out melodies and humming along with a half-formed tune, when something on his social media sparked an idea. As a result, he decided moping at home wasn’t going to get him anywhere useful. He packed up his guitar and came here.
The refugee church was an old, familiar site. As a kid, Ezvin’s mother used to take him there to volunteer, and when he heard that it was a place for refugees, he wandered back one day to see if he could help somehow. He’d come back once or twice, the second time with his guitar and did nothing but play and lift a few spirits.
There were some questionable rumors hovering around the place, but Ezvin saw the best in people, and such reputations didn’t bother him. He entered the church through the front doors. Nobody paid him much attention. He wore a nice leather jacket over a henley with form-fitting jeans, but he didn't particularly stand out other than carrying a guitar case.
The refugee church was an old, familiar site. As a kid, Ezvin’s mother used to take him there to volunteer, and when he heard that it was a place for refugees, he wandered back one day to see if he could help somehow. He’d come back once or twice, the second time with his guitar and did nothing but play and lift a few spirits.
There were some questionable rumors hovering around the place, but Ezvin saw the best in people, and such reputations didn’t bother him. He entered the church through the front doors. Nobody paid him much attention. He wore a nice leather jacket over a henley with form-fitting jeans, but he didn't particularly stand out other than carrying a guitar case.