Ruben always lit a candle on the way. Sometimes more.
It took him only a few moments; a respite, before having to buck up and face the overwhelming bleakness of The Center.
His quiet times at the Basilica of St. Nicolas were needed… Tranquility and stability that seemed to emanate from the very structure itself.
Ruben wasn’t sure what he believed. How could a God of compassion allow such hopeless carnage? Its infestations felt even among the children?
Still… what could it hurt?
With another unspoken prayer, Ruben turned. The children at The Center awaited.
Originally posted at The 100 Story. December’s Photo Flash Fiction Prompt.