“It’s tragic, isn’t it, the way these people have been treated? To have their…their graves disturbed and their bones tossed aside like garbage in the streets…” Hands splayed on either side of his head, Saint Sorrows lies down on his stomach. He turns his head to rest an ear against the grass, looking very sad as he does so. When he shuts his eyes and takes in a deep breath, I suppose I could almost believe he’s trying to listen for…something. The gentle tread of spiritual feet? I don’t know.... read more
