Characteristics: Scarlet fog, a throne of gold, a painting of the church in your very own style, snuffed out flame, distant dreams pt.2
 
Key notes:  Incense, cold metal, sandalwood, hay, musk
 
PLOTLINE: the contract is pressed into your palms like a sentence. You could press your forehead to the floor and make noises like some wounded thing, or you could kneel. Let the century’s rain soak through the silk until the weight far exceeds you.
 
DEEP BREATH: The altar is not yours to break, but the papers the priest handed you are. Fill them in as well as he did.
 
HOW IT WORKS:  you prepare for the confession the way you prepare for any other slow-motion disaster. The candles flicker with a kind of warmth that suggests they couldn’t burn anything if they tried. They know better, and you’ve always known better. But they won't be real until you pick them up.