She’d always preferred the cathedral at night. There was something about the way the candles flickered, sending shadows over the dark stone walls, over the face of Jesus as he hung mounted on the cross, that made Anais feel as though her prayers were truly being heard. And she preferred to be alone in the act of worship; she’d always hated the competitiveness of it all. The race to heaven, to be the most devout, most sinless, most prayerful Catholic put a sour taste in her mouth and a threatened to turn it into a charade. No, Anais preferred to be alone in the light of candles when she fell to her knees to pray.
It was rare to find the sanctuary completely empty, but tonight, as she unwrapped her scarf, and shed her coat, Anais was pleasantly surprised to find it unoccupied. She moved to second row of pews, and, without a soul to witness the only way in which she knew how to repent, closed her eyes, and drew a breath before she opened her mouth to sing.
Ave Maria! Maiden mild! Listen to a maiden's pleading from these rocks, stark and wild, my prayer shall be wafted to thee. we shall sleep safely till morning, though men be ever so cruel. o Maiden, see a maiden's distress, O Mother, hear a suppliant child.
The sound lifted up to touch every inch of the cavernous space, resonating within it’s hallowed walls, and filling it with a prayer to Mother Mary, that she might be saved.
Ave Maria, undefiled! When we upon this rock lie down to slumber, and they protection covers us, The hard stone will seem soft to us. If Though smilest, the scent of roses will float Through this murky cavern, O Mother, hear a child's petition
@malmurd