TIME: 09:34 pm LOCATION: holy cross parish STATUS: for rico ! @almostparaiso
Whispered to breaking dawns, when moons still clung low in the sky- the person who comes to call himself Aaron today would come to know of angels and sin before the words could be tainted leaving his mouth. Whispered to empty chambers, where bruised knees kiss cold wood floors. In confessionals where they’d peer through the mesh cracks, searching for some higher presence. Shadow spinning in the streams of light. Glimpses of what lie beyond.
Give thanks to the Lord for He is good.
But that child would be long forgotten to the world, forgetting what a God had once meant to them. Perhaps even then they only did it because they’d head it because they were told to. He’d always be good at that- just as clay is good at warming to the touch of hand.
Standing in the quiet of night, with few patrons left after the service it slowly floods back. Hands carefully lighting candles that will be ever burning all night. Flames dancing shadows that lick at the edges of those who pray as Aaron tries not to disturb. But he finds himself, inching closer and closer to a face they only knew so well from task files. Matches strike, and again, reaching for a dimmed candle he lights it, and places it beside the praying man.