Post by izakasazaka on Jan 13, 2011 22:23:34 GMT -5
Lights poured in from the rafters above the crowd; a large gathering had been deposited within the temple on this most holy of days, many attending to pay their respects to the Goddess for her continued watch over their lives, and her mercy toward them. Up upon the pulpit, an old man preached, as lines of people passed him by, placing all sorts of flowers and dolls in a heap before him. "Give thanks to she who watches over us eternally, give thanks to the goddess!"
Off to the right of the procession, Izaka observed the ceremony. He'd already deposited his gift, a small bracelet, at the front of the pile. Even though they all knew where the items went, namely, into the pockets of the church-order, all the members of the congregation felt obligated to give thanks.
With a scoff, Izaka turned, watching the crowd; he was searching for someone within it, someone important. . .
Off to the right of the procession, Izaka observed the ceremony. He'd already deposited his gift, a small bracelet, at the front of the pile. Even though they all knew where the items went, namely, into the pockets of the church-order, all the members of the congregation felt obligated to give thanks.
With a scoff, Izaka turned, watching the crowd; he was searching for someone within it, someone important. . .
