It was a balmy night, with gusty winds peppered by weak rain. Jesse marched clumsily down the dark and empty street, her heavy black boots clomping along beneath her, feeling the strong abandon of just enough booze in her blood as she sucked aimlessly on her cigarette.
The sound of the loud music from the bar was still playing in her head; she hummed along quietly without realizing it, one hand shoved in her black motorcycle jacket, the other trailing smoke. The wind raked through her wild black hair like the fingers of a lover.
She felt invincible.
But before she knew it, that weak rain had become somewhat stronger. A clap of thunder in the distance promised a serious shake-down.
Her first concern was that her cigarette would go out, but, looking down, she realized that it was virtually finished.
She tossed it on the sidewalk with silly enthusiasm and stomped on it, grinning.
The rain had become big, fat drops. It was starting to soak down to her scalp in a few places. She knew in a couple more minutes it would be pelting. She stood motionless for a moment, waiting for a whim to lead her.
Though she didn't much mind getting soaked, she still glanced up and down the street for available cover just to know her options.
She was intrigued to notice that the only light on the road, besides the garish street-lamps, was a very soft emanation from a church, not far ahead of her, and on her side of the street.
It was odd, being so late at night. The warm red and amber glow from the stained glass windows made it seem as if a service were about to start. She decided to check it out.
She ran up to the big wooden doors, making a racket that would have startled anyone near, if there had been anyone, and was surprised to find that the door opened right up.
She walked onto the thick red carpet of a wood-paneled vestibule, and took a look around.
Like most churches she had been in, it was cozy and beautiful inside. Everything was polished wood, elegant marble statues, flowers and colored glass.
A faint fragrance hung in the air, but there was no sound, and no one to be seen. She was instinctively quiet, vaguely wondering if she was about to offend someone by being there.
She also realized she was tracking water on the carpet, and promptly walked onto the wood instead. She soundlessly moved into the church, keeping inconspicuous, and admired the place.
When she walked into the nave, her eyes were naturally drawn to the massive crucified Christ hanging high on the far, center wall.
She kept near the back, where there was a heavy shadow, and plopped down on the floor. She could still see the spotlighted figure, hanging from the cross.
Not five seconds after she had sat, the unmistakable sound of a door opening broke the silence, and someone came into the room on the farthest side from her.
The sound of the person's footsteps was muted by the carpet, but she could tell by the slightest rustling of clothing, and the sounds of objects lightly connecting, that the person was moving about quickly.
She crawled forward and cautiously peeked up over the back pew, pretty confident that no one would see her, as the church was so large, and the person sounded engrossed in whatever they were doing.
It was a priest, dressed in a long black cassock.
He was tall, around six foot or so- though it was true that most men seemed tall to her, as she was pretty short.
He had thick black hair, and was in good health- evident by his energy and square shoulders. His manner made him seem vaguely distressed. She crept forward, in order to see him more clearly.
Once she had moved through more than half the space between them, she poked her head around one of the pews and got a better view.
He was most certainly distressed; it was evident in his expression. He seemed to stare off and through everything. His heavy brows were knitted, and his eyes seemed cast in shadow. His face was haggard, but handsome.
She guessed him to be around forty or so. There were small patches of grey in his hair right over his ears.
He went on placing ceremonial objects about the back of the church, occasionally rubbing at some smudge he perceived here and there.
There was a desperate air to it, though. He made no sound, and his expression was fixed. After some minutes of this, his movements degenerated into an absent-minded pacing.
Jesse was absolutely fascinated with him.
Finally, he stopped, and stood staring into nothing, as if he had drifted off far from this world. Then, to Jesse's wonder, a few tears suddenly ran down his face.
These tears brought several streams of others, and the priest hurried from the room, through a door a joining, as if he were ashamed.
In his hurry, he had left the door to the joining room slightly ajar, and Jesse followed silently through it, possessed by a mad feeling of fearless interest.
She crept up behind him in the small and dim room that seemed furnished for priests preparing to give sermon. He was kneeling on the floor, totally unaware of her presence, his face in his hands. His shoulders shook slightly and he made only the softest sounds.
Jesse walked as close to him as she dared, without alerting him. As he cried like a broken man, she felt the more distinct feeling of insolent lust rise up in her, lust for his bent and sorrowful form.
He cried for nearly five minutes, and then began to regain composure. He stood up with a sort of natural dignity and ritualistically began straightening himself up. Jesse was so close to him she could have helped.
