We were in the chapel in the next town. It was quiet, so quiet. All I could hear was Nath's low humming, and he was sitting right beside me with his eyes closed. What was he doing? Was he praying? Meditating? I let my focus rest on the cross at the center stage up front. Yes, I haven't really seen crosses with a crucified Jesus on them, few denominations used it.
The church was a large one with fancy stained-glass paintings. We've been sitting here for the past hour, and how grand the place looked still fazed me.
Nath had brought me here because I asked, but I didn't fail to see that he needed it too. I found myself bending over and holding my clasped hands to myself as I tried to reach into that part of me that believed in prayer. We sat in the chapel until people started to file in and
