Shivering in the bitter small hours, the coldness cut through like razored whips. Penance precedes absolution. The lights are dim inside my cathedral, the one I've chosen to visit first on this, the highest of holy days. It is the worst sin to cut the line, the faithful will taunt and jeer, acidic spittle dripping from their frozen tongues. The lights flicker on, with minutes to go the faithful shift and buzz with prayers on their lips and fists close to their hearts. Absolution, ecstasy in moments. In moments we'll rush into the glittering sanctuary, full to bursting with emphatic rapture, the joy that comes once a year.
The doors open and we inhale deep, bodies alive with adrenaline, we push and shove our way in the doors. Clamoring to grab and touch the images of our gods. Filling our baskets with sparkling jewels: Electronics! Toys! Pajamas! Our souls are filled, and eyes are brimming with tears. Hallelujah!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment