Two

She stood there for a moment, staring at the bells, not exactly sure what to do next. Then, as if by divine intervention, they tolled and beckoned her in. She walked up to the entrance and pushed hard against the door. It opened much easier than she expected causing her to tumble into the church; her footfalls echoing within the stone walls. She had remembered everything being so much larger and menacing. The ceilings and stain glass windows didn’t seem half as tall, and the altar looked as if it was only a few steps from the back of the church. It felt tiny and quaint, as if this was the portion of the church where the children celebrated their mass and the main church, for adults, was elsewhere. Like Thanksgiving dinner where the children are seated at a miniature version of the adult table. It was dark and cool in the church, a contrast to the bright humidity she had left outside. Out of habit she dipped her fingers in the stoup of holy water and crossed herself. She then walked down the center aisle, genuflected and slid into a pew. Then she did something else she hadn’t done in a long time, maybe also out of habit. She knelt on the wooden surface and prayed.