by Buddy Dawson (Author)

Unexpectedly, I no longer felt as if I had stumbled into some kind of private cult. Instead, I began to feel ugly and unclean, like a beggar in a palace or a stain on the front of a wedding dress. I knew I did not belong, but I knew I had to stay. The atmosphere was charged with an indescribable feeling of holiness and purity. As I sat with my head in my hands, suddenly, I felt the presence of someone standing behind me. Fear came up into my throat making me too afraid to turn and face my would-be captor, but realizing I had been discovered, I slowly sat up in the seat, not knowing what would happen next.