stained glass

Returning to my childhood church should have been simple.

Memories, routines, rituals from so many years ago return. Your body remembers what your brain has forgotten. Cross, kneel, dip. Eyes down, hands at your heart.

There’s comfort in it, of course, until you come to the parts where you get things wrong. Because it’s not all the same after all. I’ll never forget how I shook the last time I tried to take communion. The rules had changed, my hands were in the wrong place, exposing me for the fraud I had become.

Some things can’t be fixed by confession.


Posted as part of the September Story A Day challenge, for which I have come to embrace being a day late (and also probably a dollar short).  The day 3 challenge was to write a drabble, or a 100-word story. Go ahead and count them – it’s really just 100 words. You’ll find more (and infinitely better) drabbles at the 100 Word Story site.

Image via Pixabay.

This entry was posted in Challenges, Flash fiction, Stories. Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Church

  1. kristin says:

    What amazing stained glass windows.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. shanjeniah says:

    Love the image, and the last line.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Just say you’re attending in a conservative diocese, and express horror that things have taken such a… **worldly** turn in your beloved childhood parish.


  4. aandj8804 says:

    What a fun challenge! And beautiful image! I think you did a great job with this story/challenge day. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s