Ivan - The Divided Self: The Altar Boy

Complex aromas of frankincense, candle wax and communion wine mix together in the pale archaic light. The starch stiff white robes constrain me in angelic posture and I shift awkwardly on my knees. I hear the autonomic recital of the priest, murmuring with rhythmic precision, the words of the mass that he has spoken a thousand times before. His ancient hands tremble over the Eucharist in solemn consecration and I ring the bell to signify the miracle of that moment.

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