colorblind
The rain drums on yawning stained glass windows. Wind whistles through old cracks in stoic stone towers. Thousands of white candles line the shadowy cathedral hallway, fading into interrupted darkness as far as the eye can see. Noise is swallowed by dark, empty pews, absorbed and replaced by their etched-in echoes of vague disapproval. The rain gets steadily louder. I hear a creak. A little shard of light creeps through the hollows between the church’s big wooden door and the outside world. I see her outline against the stormy blanket. A little girl, almost 10 years old, throwing her weight against a door that’s too heavy for her. “Hello? Hello? Is anyone in here?” Her still, small voice echoes back and forth across the pews. …show more content…
She walks quietly for a few minutes, stopping every now and then to stare at a candle flickering back and forth or listen to the thunder rattle the tired windows. I don’t know why I can’t stop watching her. I think she looks familiar. After a while, she makes her way over to the pew in the very front of the church, just before the altar. “Hey,” she whispers. “You there.” “Hmm.” “Why are you all hunched over like that?” She leans against the edge of my pew. “I’m praying.” “No you’re not.” She laughs. “Yes, I am.” I slowly cross my stiff arms. “Nuh uh,” she taunts in a sing-song voice. “Oh, why not?” “Your hands aren’t folded right.” I narrow my eyebrows at her. “See, like this,” she climbs over into my pew and forces my wrinkled hands together. “That’s better.” “You happy now?” “Nope,” she looks back at me seriously. “You’re missing something.” “What’s that?” “Your eyes.” She stares up at mine with her eyes wide and happy and …show more content…
Sometimes I sneak in here when Mom and Dad are fighting and blow out some of the candles.” She puts her fingers in her pockets. “That’s very noble of you.” “Probably shouldn’t have told you that,” she laughs. “But I feel like you won’t tell.” “Agreed.” “You’re a good secret teller,” she grins. “I like to think so.” “You should tell me a secret,” she smiles. “I don’t know if you’d like that.” “Come on.” She tugs at my shirt sleeve. “Why do you come here?” “It’s quiet,” I said gruffly. “What about when there are people here, silly?” she laughs. “That’s why I only come here at night.” “But it’s so dark and boring in here.” “I don’t like the windows in the daytime.” “Why not? Everyone says they’re beautiful.” She folds her arms and looks around the cathedral happily. “You know,” I say slowly, “a long time ago, an old man — almost as old as I am — told me some of them were haunted.” “Haunted?” The little girl leaned in closer. “Some of them are innocent, you see. But if you look at them when the sun hits… some of them are pure evil.” “Evil?” she whispered. I had her under my spell now. “Now, you see that one with the little guy that looks all beat up sitting on top of that
The rain drums on yawning stained glass windows. Wind whistles through old cracks in stoic stone towers. Thousands of white candles line the shadowy cathedral hallway, fading into interrupted darkness as far as the eye can see. Noise is swallowed by dark, empty pews, absorbed and replaced by their etched-in echoes of vague disapproval. The rain gets steadily louder. I hear a creak. A little shard of light creeps through the hollows between the church’s big wooden door and the outside world. I see her outline against the stormy blanket. A little girl, almost 10 years old, throwing her weight against a door that’s too heavy for her. “Hello? Hello? Is anyone in here?” Her still, small voice echoes back and forth across the pews. …show more content…
She walks quietly for a few minutes, stopping every now and then to stare at a candle flickering back and forth or listen to the thunder rattle the tired windows. I don’t know why I can’t stop watching her. I think she looks familiar. After a while, she makes her way over to the pew in the very front of the church, just before the altar. “Hey,” she whispers. “You there.” “Hmm.” “Why are you all hunched over like that?” She leans against the edge of my pew. “I’m praying.” “No you’re not.” She laughs. “Yes, I am.” I slowly cross my stiff arms. “Nuh uh,” she taunts in a sing-song voice. “Oh, why not?” “Your hands aren’t folded right.” I narrow my eyebrows at her. “See, like this,” she climbs over into my pew and forces my wrinkled hands together. “That’s better.” “You happy now?” “Nope,” she looks back at me seriously. “You’re missing something.” “What’s that?” “Your eyes.” She stares up at mine with her eyes wide and happy and …show more content…
Sometimes I sneak in here when Mom and Dad are fighting and blow out some of the candles.” She puts her fingers in her pockets. “That’s very noble of you.” “Probably shouldn’t have told you that,” she laughs. “But I feel like you won’t tell.” “Agreed.” “You’re a good secret teller,” she grins. “I like to think so.” “You should tell me a secret,” she smiles. “I don’t know if you’d like that.” “Come on.” She tugs at my shirt sleeve. “Why do you come here?” “It’s quiet,” I said gruffly. “What about when there are people here, silly?” she laughs. “That’s why I only come here at night.” “But it’s so dark and boring in here.” “I don’t like the windows in the daytime.” “Why not? Everyone says they’re beautiful.” She folds her arms and looks around the cathedral happily. “You know,” I say slowly, “a long time ago, an old man — almost as old as I am — told me some of them were haunted.” “Haunted?” The little girl leaned in closer. “Some of them are innocent, you see. But if you look at them when the sun hits… some of them are pure evil.” “Evil?” she whispered. I had her under my spell now. “Now, you see that one with the little guy that looks all beat up sitting on top of that