Temple
In the early morning the new sun would pour a golden light through the windows that would blind. Fresh dawn over the parking lot and the caravans unloading congregants as they breached the gates, opened at the allotted time. The brief moments of stillness with the low eminence from heaven washed over the linoleum tiles and primary colored walls. The embolden lettering of the marquee title, the flag pole and the flag atop it. There was a broad awning over the doors held up by square pillars and wide, gentle inclines leading up. Two sets mirrored on opposite sides. Between them were harsh blocks of monotonous brickwork like a rung on a giant's ladder. Oppressive and most of it the same shade of brown. The south side. The north was much the same, but beyond its parking bed was an expanse of field as a moat and gutter to the busy street and residential mazes farther on. The road on the south was quieter and detoured and it was hedged by a small crop of trees that concealed a private pa...