*
Each passing footstep echoed, phantasmic remnants of those who had already moved along.
The floor was polished to the point of garishness, reflections dancing within the porcelain tiles, glare from the overheads catching unsuspecting passerby unawares.
There was a low murmur from the other patrons, critiquing pieces they could never truly understand, casting their objections against artists who had lived and breathed and died and been esteemed long before these critics had even drawn their first breaths.
Had this been a casual visit, he would have adopted a slower pace, taken the time to stop and study each piece featured within the collection, and perhaps even engage in a debate with some of the pompous naysayers standing nearest to windows.
But this was far from a normal excursion, and he was frantic that if he took a second longer, that if he did not hasten to the point of recklessness-
You had prayed to him, for the first time in months.
It had been disheartened, lonely, on the c
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