The Cathedral of Bone, Tale

“Honey, I really think you should talk to him. I know some kids torture bugs, but this is freaking me out.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

*

“Son, this is…awesome.”

“It’s just a model.”

“A model?”

“Yeah, it’s tiny. No real person would be able to get in there to pray. I just wanted to see if I could do it. If I could do it so it would stick around.”

“So it was a one time thing? Well, you certainly did. Where did you get all those little bones?”

“Mice and Rats”.

“Live mice and rats? How did you…”

“Well, they’re not alive anymore. And Mrs. Smith doesn’t complain about the mice in her kitchen anymore.”

“But how… Oh, never mind, once you set your mind to something, you do it. But tell me, why bones? Your little cathedral is impressive, but why didn’t you use matches or something? “

“Because we are all made of bones. We must pray between the bones.”

“Wha… Oh. I didn’t think seeing that Roentgen picture of your brother’s leg would upset you so much.”

“It didn’t bother me.”

“Well, did you pray for his speedy recovery?”

“I told you, it’s a model. It’s very small. I’d need bigger bones for a real one.”

“We don’t have to pray between the bones, and besides, we’re not just made of bones, we’re also made of flesh and blood and nerves and stuff.”

“But when we die, aren’t the bones what remains?”

“After a while, yes. But after a while, there’s only dust.”

“In the end, are we dust? Like after a fire, when everything burns?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“Oh.”

*

“Honey, when I said you should talk to him, I didn’t mean you should give him more ideas.”