MIDNIGHT MASS ON WALKER

 

 

Howling wind strafed the runway, rang the steeple bells, edged into every crease in the glass filled every nose and eyelash with grit. We stood to sing, knelt to pray, and pounded our breasts when the communion bells rang.  How our heads ached.

Santa came while we were out.

50 word story  6/16/17

 

 

 

 

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