lynsey-ziegler:
Lynsey felt ashamed when he asked if she was praying. It was a noble concept. A believable lie that might make her seem like a better person if she went along with it. But she couldn’t. Even if she’d come here desperate for ‘signs’ or the chance to speak to her parents, she also didn’t want them to win by admitting she honestly thought prayer helped. Swallowing, Lynsey looks away from the stranger, facing forward again as she thinks. Ultimately, her hands lift off her knees in confused throws, a defeated shrug, while she grins at the dark humor of it all.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” she admits, laughing for what felt like the first time in years. Lynsey keeps her smile and eyes low for a second before breathing in and listening to her back rock quietly against the pew behind her. “‘Spent every week in church when I was a girl. I listened to all the wisdom. I want to believe my words will reach the people I’m missing but I just don’t.”
She huffs, immediately bending over backwards to quell her outburst. She didn’t even know this man. The last thing she needed was to be labelled as a hysterical something-or-other. Sniffing, Lynsey glanced at Ladislav again, frowning when she noted the familiar tome in his hands, and immediately feeling a different kind of regret.
“…no offense.”
The brutal honesty of the answer surprises him a little bit and for just a moment, he stands there at the back of the chapel and watches her. And while he barely knows her, he finds himself wishing she could have that peace of mind to know that her prayers were reaching someone. That some sign could reach out to her and give her some comfort.
Clearing his throat, he shakes his head when she tells him no offense, but he takes a few steps forward and finds his own place in a pew towards the back, sitting back and looking towards the front of the chapel, towards all the religious symbols strewn across the room. He had the bible in his hand, he had the prayers in his head, he had the words in his memory. But he couldn’t rightfully say that he didn’t relate to her sentiment.
“I did not go to church as kid. I went to prison. Try to find God. Memorize his book,” he held up the bible with a wry smile on his face before he puts it back down in his lap. “Speak to him every night. But...I do not think he is listening. I do not know why I still do it every day.”









