The city of Wymyn isn’t phenomenally interesting on its own. There are a few buildings housing locally owned businesses, a few that may have once but now only house the homeless.
People come and go and generally are polite to one another, they even politely ignore the nuns.
The nuns work at Saint Glady’s School for Girls, about twenty miles up the road. They started frequenting the local bar about two years ago. They all have the same story, the same student.
It isn’t that young Damiana Leigh is a bad child, certainly not the worst behaved at the school. She isn’t stupid or ignorant or disrespectful. Her father and stepmother sent her away so she could face her disability head on and not use it as a crutch.
The nuns felt guilty about their reactions to the girl, but they could hardly be blamed.
After all, how often does a child show up with horns, cloven hooves and a purple lunchbox?