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Even a Worm will Turn

The church had always been her safe place. With its hard wooden pulpits with their picked-at splinters that the bored churchgoer works at, and the common man agonizes over when they nick him. Colored light cascaded through the stained glass windows warming the pews to a comfortable temperature in the chilly early morning but was avoided by all but the chronically cold on the hotter days.  Something had changed in the past few months, however; the pews had more splinters that always seemed to find her legs no matter how she searched for them before sitting. The doors always hit her when she left and the candles never lit fast enough for the other patrons waiting in line. Their scowls followed her back down the aisle to her seat in the back, as she was now never early enough to get her usual seat up front.

from March 18, 2024