Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work: But the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates:  For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day: wherefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day, and hallowed it.

I open my eyes. I’m on the floor, my wings crumbled under me like a moth. I blink and I’m bleeding in the choir room. There’s no rest for the weary, and the body is a temple of shame. In Sunday School, I win contests for my Catechism, but I don’t want to live forever and can’t bear to step foot in the house of the Lord. Every time I close my eyes I see—a child buried in the water, moving sculptures in a wax museum, and a rattlesnake—writhing in a closed metal can on the edge of a dock.

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