THE CHURCH OPENED HER ARMS.
There was nobody inside. When I walked across the marble floor I could hear my own footsteps.
All the church plate must have been looted, but high up on the north wall, beside a wind-eye, there was a bronze crucifix.
I stared up at Him and He stared down at me.
His face was so drawn. His cheekbones were almost sticking through His stretched skin.
He died for me. He died for us all. Our Savior.
Why didn’t He save the Zarans? Why does He allow us to wound and kill one another? Why has He chosen to set us free?
When we hurt each other, do we also hurt Him?
Have mercy on me, O Lord. Have mercy on me.
Standing at the door, I turned back. A ray of sunlight was shining through the wind-eye. It lanced the crucifix. One moment it was flashing, the next bleeding.