Catholic Blues
"Darn it," muttered Angel Lopez, pulling the covers over her head. Yesterday's forecast had predicted fair weather this Saturday. Torrential rain beat against the roof and windows. She'd been looking forward to a long bike ride this morning. Instead, she brewed Maxwell House, and left to attend morning Mass. As much as she enjoyed High Mass on special occasions, she preferred Low Mass, its simplicity, its very plainness: humble, like a manger. Sometimes after Mass, she stopped by the refectory... Читать дальше...