the confessional booth smelled of old wood, and the ash and smoke long embedded into the delicate grain, the sweat of nervous sinners blended smoothly with it all; lingering as if a reminder of the harshness of Gods judgement "May the Lord forgive you for your sins" The man on the other side of the booth spoke a smooth Russian accent, his features shielded by the veil that was hung between the booths like the smoke which the air smelled so heavily of.