The Venetian
“Tomaso sat motionless in the front pew, nothing moving save his hands wringing one another with greater and greater vigor. He glanced down, forced them apart like unruly siblings. The sunlight streamed in through high windows on either side of the building, angling down toward his inert form, meeting at the shoulders, heating the place at the base of his neck—Tomaso, the anointed one. It was a cruel jest. Now, as when Donatella had died, this place gave him little solace. Yet he came, wishing, ...perhaps even praying, that he could receive just a small portion of the peace that others so clearly found here amidst the flickering flames and kindly saints. They gazed down, saddened stone eyes upon parishioners seeking some vague forgiveness, doomed from the start by their original sin, with little need to know the particulars of their crimes. They had faith, and that was enough. He had been slipping away, could feel it, as surely as he could feel the cooling glass cradled in his hands each day.MoreLess
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