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“A cathedral is more than a grand edifice---it is a preview of heaven, a taste of eternity.” A short man enters the cathedral with what appears to be his family. His greasy hair is long, about shoulder length, and he is wearing a blue long-sleeved button-down with dark jeans. He steps up to an ivory font attached to the back left wall of the small cathedral. Not many people are here anymore. It is the lull between the two o’clock and five o’clock mass. The man pulls out an orange plastic pill bottle, the cylindrical ones with the white caps. He opens up the small bottle and sticks it into the font. With one hand he holds the bottle still, and with the other he very discreetly tries to scrape holy water into the bottle. Hand cupped, he uses quick movements to get as much of the water as he can into the orange container. No one seems to see. Once he is satisfied, he fastens the top back on the bottle and slowly moves to the other side of the cathedral. Soon, he and his family have left.

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Connective Tissue 2013 | Volume 6