Walking through Abbotsford Convent at night is not a scary thing. It has been repurposed and renovated into an outdoor cinema, a restaurant and a bar. People fill the spaces with their laughter and conversation. There is nothing to frighten you in Abbotsford Convent.
Silence descends, the people are gone. Empty chairs and half-drunk beers are all that occupy the restaurant now. I walk towards the cinema and bar listening intently for the sound of a crowd. I round the corner. Nothing but rows and rows of deck chairs littered with blankets and bags as if everyone has gone to the bathroom at once. An old film begins to plays on the big screen.
To my left is a corridor. A narrow tunnel through the building to the other side. Framed by the tunnel is a square of grass and a small stone bench haloed by the last light of the day.
I walk through. When I emerge I raise my hand to block the sudden sunlight. When I drop it there is something else behind the bench. I don’t know how I missed it before, but the most beautiful statue of an angel stands before me, her hands raised to cover her face as though in tears.
I smile… I blink.