~ Abigail ~

I hate the way the catechist looks at me.

“This is the Lord’s table. Catholics who are properly disposed and in a state of grace may come forward to receive Holy Communion…”

His gaze crawls over my skin, lingering where it shouldn’t, even as the sacred announcement spills from his lips.

“Those who are not Catholic, or Catholics who are not prepared to receive,” he continues, “are invited to remain seated, or come forward for a blessing with their arms crossed over their chest.”

He finally tears his eyes away and returns to his seat beside the altar railing.

I let out a slow, quiet breath.

Beside...