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The choir of angels?
Iris holds the prayer book firmly in her hand.
Determined, she opens the requested page in the praise of God.
To her great joy.
Resembling a tremor, the congregation rises.
A divine chant follows.
Actually, Iris is not a great believer.
She just likes to sing melancholy tunes in this old place with its pompous, holy observers, who seem to know so much, only to reveal nothing.
She hears the voices of others.
The choir of angels?
Today she dares!
She will drown out all!
At the top of her lungs, all her strength she will need, all will look to her!
It tingles in her whole body, soft knees, her hands trembling and wet she presses the black book even tighter to her.
Her heart beats faster and faster, heavy breathing. Iris takes a deep breath...
Silence.
The crowd of worshippers settles down on the creaky old wooden benches and folds their hands.
Here and there a slightly suppressed cough and throat clearing.
The song-saturated air is cleansed by thick clouds of incense. Until the last note has faded away.
The expectant silence and the prompting of an introspective prayer forces Iris back into the depths of the unfriendly, hard, and eternal pew.
She missed her cue.
Determined, she opens the requested page in the praise of God.
To her great joy.
Resembling a tremor, the congregation rises.
A divine chant follows.
Actually, Iris is not a great believer.
She just likes to sing melancholy tunes in this old place with its pompous, holy observers, who seem to know so much, only to reveal nothing.
She hears the voices of others.
The choir of angels?
Today she dares!
She will drown out all!
At the top of her lungs, all her strength she will need, all will look to her!
It tingles in her whole body, soft knees, her hands trembling and wet she presses the black book even tighter to her.
Her heart beats faster and faster, heavy breathing. Iris takes a deep breath...
Silence.
The crowd of worshippers settles down on the creaky old wooden benches and folds their hands.
Here and there a slightly suppressed cough and throat clearing.
The song-saturated air is cleansed by thick clouds of incense. Until the last note has faded away.
The expectant silence and the prompting of an introspective prayer forces Iris back into the depths of the unfriendly, hard, and eternal pew.
She missed her cue.
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