by Danielle Lee

Created on: November 19, 2009

Lily Donovan glanced around with trepidation. The heavy door slammed loudly behind her as she entered the church. Her bright green eyes scanned the austere environment. Sunday mass didn't begin for another forty-five minutes, leaving the church virtually secluded.

Lily removed her white knit sweater, slightly damp from the light drizzle of rain and hung it neatly in the coat closet provided for the congregation. She cringed at the hangers tinkling lightly as they bumped into one another. Even the most subtle noises were like a freight train in an empty church.

She thought pensively to herself as she compared the ambiance of the church to that of a library. Wondering for a moment why it was necessary to remain as hushed as possible within walls of religion.

Thinking ahead, she hung her sweater as close to the end of the wooden closet as she could. That would ensure a quick and easy escape after the service.

Selecting a seat with a clear view of the confessional booth, she noted with impatient dismay that the booth appeared to be in use.

Two tiny gray haired nuns, donned in all black, sat two pews ahead of her. Their heads bowed piously, they fumbled their beaded rosaries earnestly.

Lily suppressed the urge to giggle out loud as she thought of a joke she'd heard about two nuns going into a bar. It involved sheep, it was a bad one.

Straightening the lapel on her beige suit jacket, she smoothed down any wrinkles on her favorite white skirt with the tiny cream flowers embroidered on it. A smear of syrup on the cuff of her white blouse was all that remained of her mother's delicious Sunday morning breakfast. Lily looked around to make sure no one noticed as she gave her cuff a quick lick cleaning.

Looking around the church, she studied all of the ornate statues and religious artifacts that were displayed. Cherubic marble angels strummed tiny harps with their large feathered wings poised behind them as though prepared for an immediate departure.

In the corner, a large tiered table hosted a large number of lit candles. A burning flame represented each prayer resulting in a beautiful illuminated vigil. Lily cringed as she inadvertently imagined herself accidentally tripping and plunging headfirst into the table.

She knew without a shadow of a doubt that if anyone was going to end up being a human torch due to perpetual clumsiness, it was her. Trouble and chaos seemed to stalk Lily like a blood-thirsty mosquito.

Shaking off the fire daydream, her eyes were drawn

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