Time spent with St. Francis

I walked around the church of St. Mary of the Angels. It was a church in the town of Assisi. It was the year 1221. I had arrived a few minutes earlier by way of my time-travel machine, which I had parked behind some cranberry bushes. I always hide my time vehicle when traveling, ever since I saw Marty McFly hide his in the Back to the Future movies.

I came upon a ram-shackled hut next the church and knocked. Out came a delicate man in rags. I said, “St. Francis?” I think he sensed I didn’t speak Italian and he nodded. I nodded back.

I handed him a honey crisp apple that I’d brought with me. They are the most delicious apples. I motioned for him to take a bite. He took a bite, but didn’t smile in delight. Smiling was not a thing back in those days. Through natural evolution, humans finally acquired the smiling muscles in the year 1923. St. Francis eyes glimmered though so I knew I’d hit the gift jackpot. He finished the apple down to the pit.

We went for a walk around the countryside. We didn’t talk but held hands. Back then men could hold hands. It was actually common. Not holding hands with a man you were walking with was considered a great insult, and often resulted in time spent in the stockades.