coffee, black and bitter
The scruffy man hobbled down the aisle of the empty church.
He peered at the model of the chubby baby in the manger reaching up to Mary and Joseph. Everything was clean, sanitised and calm.
But it had been hot and sweaty when He was born. And crowded. Animals, relatives and well-wishers had filled the stable that His parents had been lucky to find.
The priest approached, ready to bribe the scruffy man to leave with the price of a cup of coffee.
He turned and shuffled away sadly. Even here, in this church, there was no room for Him.