Stained glass transmuted morning sunshine into fireworks of rose, butter, and myrrh. Candles swayed to secret music, smoke rising in helical columns to the roof. Somewhere nearby, a girl sang scales. Joey stopped next to an empty pew and closed his eyes. He was at the still center of the world. He understood why people call this the house of God. He laughed, and choirs of angels laughed with him. “Joey, what are you up to back there?” The pastor was standing at the rail.

As she dressed for church, Nikki studied her reflection in the mirror and imagined cutting all her hair off, smearing her face with lipstick, and bashing her head against the glass until it broke. She opened the vanity drawer. Inside she stared at a pair of scissors. Her hand floated over them before she closed the drawer and finished applying the rest of her makeup. A lapsed Catholic, she rarely went to church anymore. She never went anywhere except work. Every day she w

James arrived at the synagogue early. Almost fifteen years had passed since he'd last been here. It hadn't changed, a stark structure of old brick with no adornments of any kind. In the cool morning air the sounds of his leather shoes were sharp on the stone steps. The sun was bright, the day brisk. He took a deep breath, barely invigorated by the cold rush that filled his lungs, and opened the heavy wooden door. Exhaustion wrapped his body like an old blanket. Too many

Four weeks in, as a petition for absolution, I hiked, occasionally encountering other pilgrims as we weaved France’s verdant, wooded,...

(content warning: this story includes references to domestic violence.) As a cradle Catholic, I always knew you needed your faith to do...

1 It was a cool fall evening, the sky gray and the air still. I tied the goldenrod with a blue ribbon and held it in my hand as I walked,...