My story; a representation of a possible tale, Chaucer's Pardoner may tell.

And as I blew the candles of the holy church,
There came before me a poor boy sorry to search.
For his sin's had drowned him thoroughly as did the rain,
Yet it did not stop him collapsing from guilt and pain.
I asked him, "What do you here,cold and out of breath?"
He replied, "My lord, please, oh please save me from death!"
I seized my duty and took him in my arms,"Tell me, what have you done?"
"I stole an apple my lord. Ate it, and now its gone"
"Stealing is a sin! Your full of greed! pay for your forgiveness and plead"
"I have no money, my lord, I live on the streets"
"Then go! Leave! Pick up your feet!"
"Have mercy my good lord! All i possess is my petty soul"
"Leave! i am no longer your lord."
"I do have the only thing special to me, my mothers necklace. She has died."
"My son! Give me that gold, and come inside."

Mahsa.