Oops – bit of a rush and managed to post a blank page. This has now been corrected, and the story included. Sorry folks.
The Saints watched silently when the Father sinned against me.
Sunlight through beatific images of a holy few; glorious glass glowed, dappling the room in shattered colour. A broken rainbow; a broken promise, a broken child. Sanctuary spoiled; safety swapped for shame by a weak man’s ungodly urges. The consecrated corrupted; the martyr’s glass truly stained.
The Saints’ silence echoed, reverberating loudly and deafening those who should have cared, drowning out my cries long after the crime.
The Saints watch silently again now; one final, mortal sin. Stained-glass bottles and rainbow coloured pills. Another martyr to silence.
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