Crush crushed

Day 3: Write about the biggest time you put your foot in your mouth.

Just like she imagined, they were entering the church together. He tentatively, nervously led her up the three white stone steps to push open the carved wooden door.

I watched his every move. When our eyes met, I shivered. Is he really interested in me? Why?

The church was asleep, but it was dreaming. Its pristine white paint became canvas of blue in the soft afternoon shadows. Foreground for splashes of painted light from the stained glass windows on every side.

An aisle welcomed us. We genuflected, then step-by-step made our way to the altar. Is this what it would be like?

Genuflecting again we had reached the front pew.

I knelt with him, nervous. He pulled out a small white pouch with a zipper. He carefully grabbed a bead and guided the fragile chain into his other hand. The rosary had plastic red beads, with many many small reflective sides.

“Oh! That’s the kind of rosary you get in the mail! We got one from a charity my mom donates too. They are all that same plastic and are red…” I trailed off. My initial excitement of having a topic of conversation was killed by the expression on his face.

What did I say wrong?

He stood up and the left the church. Alone.

Baffled. I followed.

“My dead grandmother gave me that rosary.”

His beautiful face I adored so much was closed. He was disgusted. He would not look at me.

Crushed.

 

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