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The Fall by Albert Camus
Frank Pe’s Little Nemo by Frank PéA mantis landed on the rail, and it put up its dukes as one might expect of madmen or drunken Irish kooks. Why would one seek out a fair fight with someone much bigger, I shook my head and started to engage in a snigger. But then it did occur to me that he couldn't stand elsewise. So, I tried to gauge his intent, and looked him in the eyes... and he stomped me in my nether bits - much to my surprise.
The boy pressed his hand to the cool interior wall, sitting on the floor of a dark, empty chapel. Outside the sun blazed, and humidity oppressed. The orphan created a narrative in his head, one based on some strange logic. If hell was an "eternal torment of flames," then the cool interior of the monk's chapel must be the anti-hell -- a place that devoured the heat of hell-fire... but what did that make that baking place that was outside those thick walls.
