Stepping into the cathedral, calm like a cold draft, descends. The voluminous space coupled with the bouncing echoes evoke a low chant-like hum bringing about an eerie sense of peace.

The empty rows beckons to the lone visitor, who sits and turns to face a downcast Jesus Christ upon the cross; to whom he utters a short prayer.

Not really a believer, yet not quick to discard the idea of belief; caught in the middle of sorts.

Before long, hours passed; he cannot deny feeling the yolk of burden slowly lifting. Up, up, gone, *poof*.

As it was time to go, he picks himself up, dusting off his coat. He is unnerved by the lightness of his shoulders; with a shrug, he carries on.