The part with the bells
I was thinking of Act 3 Emily
Trying to really realize it
Forty years later and the place smells exactly the same. I wondered how often I'd stared up at that same stained glass. Taken refuge there during recess. Been embarrassed by my growling stomach during morning mass. Flipped in the hymn to those same tired songs, lead by the same proud, warbling voices.
The unchanging feels more like something arrested than something eternal, noble or true
All eyes on the middle aisle during communion parade. Everyone watching each other sideways. Is there a true prayer lifted in that entire hour? It's hard for me to imagine what even goes on in these minds.
Any more "You must increase, I must decrease" would have had me an agitated dust speck, forever lifted to a light beam and then forced to rest again on those same worn pews. A dark ancient cave. Shadows on the wall.
But I've seen too much. Grown too tall.
The world got bigger, the church got small.