(Lucy) A house that runs itself

"Trouble with a parishioner?" Enquired the majestic old woman, approaching Lucy at a leisurely pace.

"Mother Renais! I'm so, so sorry! I don't know what I… I know I'm just supposed to be a cleaner here… I shouldn't have… I just thought I could… I'm so sorry!" The girl's outburst was pure dismay. Filled with thoughts of being thrown back out from this place and onto the streets once more. A pair of strong, but spindly arms wrapped her up in a soothing embrace. Quashing all such nonsense.

"Shhh now, child" The old woman chuckled, dryly but warmly. "'Just supposed to be?'...I don't recall ever telling anyone they were 'just supposed to be' anything around here. We all just fit into the roles She gives us… I merely suggested you might want to take hold of a broom…"

Lucy looked up into the woman's half-veiled face confusedly. Her tears quickly beginning to slow and dry. "You mean…?"

The nun's smile was wide and languid. Open and honest in its offering of hidden insight into how this unfathomable place worked.

"I don't think I've ever told anyone what to do with their time here, my little cherub. Some simply come looking for something in particular… and some come looking to provide something. Some don't even seem to know whether they're looking to give or receive… until they meet another wanderer facing the same conundrum. I'd say it was all rather lucky that it just always seems to work out… Almost a… miracle, really…"

Lucy couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. All this… just sort of happened? …on its own? All the niched and dedicated acolytes? All the specific props and chambers? All the flocks of satisfied visitors? Right from the start she had always assumed there was a cold and focussed logic to it. A testament to the clever and logistical minds of Renais and the other 'mother's' to this warren of ever-bouncing rabbits. To find out it was all just perfectly lubricated chaos was a realisation near profound… in its spiritual significance. For an instant Lucy really did feel like there was something else there watching her… and chuckling with a smile much like the one her respected guide was offering. She did not know whether that made her feel better… or worse.

"I still scared him off though…" The girl murmured, looking for some comfort in at least the grounding despondency of that.

"Did you?" Asked the wise, old creature, forcing the question back down into Lucy's heart. "He didn't seem precisely frightened to me… as he zipped past… In fact I believe he had rather a large and idiotic grin upon his face, as boys of that age are want to…"

This was news to the urchin. She caught herself wondering aloud again: "Then why did he run off?"

"Why do young men do anything, my dear? Incredibly advanced stupidity has always been my best guess… I expect he'll be back, if his needs were not fully satisfied. Sometimes our guests find they need to take their medicine in controlled doses, at first. Lest their hearts fill far too fast…"

Mother Renais now fixed her young charge with a stare that made it clear a lesson was being taught.

"You must remember that there are so many types of love that people come here for, little cherub… and the ones that are needed most are not always the ones you'd think. Perhaps, should you bump into the young man again, you should try to learn a little more about him. Use that keen eye of yours to spot the chains he might be bearing. It's not just the poor and the hungry who struggle, you know… Though obviously they have fairer right to complain. We try to forgive our guests their privileges here too… where we can. Expectations can be a weight unexpected… to those of us who were never expected to amount to anything…"

That last line sent a little shiver up Lucy's spine… as if she had just recognised something in Mother Renais that felt strangely like a mirror. But that wasn't something she could make sense of right now, so instead she asked the other mystery on her mind:

"He said I looked almost identical to… someone he knew. And that one of the mothers had directed him down here…?"

The nun offered another dry chuckle, releasing her embrace upon the naked girl at last.

"Did he? Probably wishful thinking I would expect… One of our seamstresses told me once: three quarters of the costume is in the audience's head. Don't forget your broom if you're done with that room now dear, I think you might be needing it again quite soon…"

And with that, the old lady was off once more. Fading into the gloom of the long, winding passage. Lucy was left rather overflowing with crosshatching thoughts, but couldn't get any of them to settle quite straight. She was hungry too though, so decided to head for the canteen. She did collect her broom first however… whether it was camouflage or costume for her now.