Snippet #1690199

Brother Winthrow wiped his brow. The sweat was beading quickly as he stood over the pot stirring. He was on food duty. All the monks had rotation of duties and this week he was cooking. It was hot and his shirt was sticking to his back and chest as he stirred the broth. Near by two monks were busy working on the bread for the next day as the loaves for dinner baked in the oven. Mark stirred the pot again. Only a few more days of this before he moved on to his next duty. It was a good life. Work, prayers and simple things.

Mark was about to dip the spoon in again giving the broth another stir when he was sent staggering. Something caused the enitre room to shake. Bracing his hands on the pot to stop himself from falling in Mark yelled. Stepping back his hands were forming red burns on his palms from the hot pot. Mark looked around. Things had fallen in the shaking. One of the other monks was on the floor. A lump of dough was also on the floor. "Ruined..." Mark thought sadly.

Mark went to find some cold water. Turning as he soaked his painful hands in the cold water Mark looked at one of the other monks. "What happened? What was that?" The pain in his hands was terrible. While the cold help the burn the pain from the cold on the raw skin was almost unbearable. The other monk looked at him. "I...I don't know."
Another Brother ran into the room. "Something has hit us, something crashed." The Brother's in the kitchen rushed out. Mark headed off to see what had happened. He held his hands in front of him. The were red and angry looking, dripping as he rushed to follow the rest.

A group of Brothers had gathered and were staring at what appeared to be the remanents of a crashed shuttle.