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Chapter 23
23 As I expect, shame is there to greet me the minute I wake. But what I don’t expect is everything else that comes along with the shame. Like smoke curling off a fire, like heat curling off a flame, there’s also loneliness and stubbornness and a longing that would surpass that of a king watching a woman bathe on a rooftop. And then there’s something else, something that I can’t quite name. It’s there, translucent and untouchable as I pray vigils and attempt lectio and then pray lauds too. It’s there as I surreptitiously watch Elijah eat his breakfast from across the refectory. As Elijah tells me after we eat that he plans to spend the day writing, and so I’m free to attend to my usual duties. It’s like I’m looking at everything through stained glass, warped and bubbled and shaded
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