Cathedral Shopping

It’s 10pm and Nicolo has let himself into this grand, sacred Cathedral on 11th Street in downtown Sacramento. The sign in front: “Founded June 30, 1889” had been a painful stab through his dead heart, but he moved past without allowing himself the luxury of reacting.

Inside, the lights are out but vast amounts of stained glass allow the city lights to bleed through, causing a surreal glow on the rows and rows of pews and arches and art and alters, all born from Kine hands in passionate devotion and offering to God. A mass of glittering, flickering candles light an alter to his right, each one a silent prayer for a lost soul or a private matter.

His Dolce and Gabbanas snap and echo distinctly across the marble floor, heralding his arrival to the saints and apostles, as he makes his way toward the front of the church and into the front pew. He kneels gracefully down, genuflects, closes his eyes and begins his conversation with his Dark Prophet. This was a house of God he meant to make for the Damned.