Cherubim Worms

death, suicide, churches, strange connections, starvation

Excerpt from story

“Your Flesh becomes my flesh, and my flesh becomes Your Flesh. Thus we may know You, even as You know us,” the priest whispered into the sleeve of his surplice.

    In the pew furthest from the altar, Tear felt sick from the body heat of his surrounding family. He moved without having asked permission to move. As quietly as he could, with knowledge of all possible echoes in the body of the Cathedral, Tear stood without having asked permission to stand. He entered the vestibule. Then, pushing with both hands, he shoved open the heavy door to the street outside. He had not been permitted to do this. As he breathed the humid air and leaned back against the Cathedral’s wet stone walls, he played out the possibilities of what would happen to him at home.

7,090 words