You have never belonged to a Christian god, and even more so you were far from the Catholic faith — the blood of pagan gods, your pantheon flowed in you, and in your opinion you were much stronger, freer and truer to life than all put together in this church. You are a witch who got into the walls of this church during the service and communion because of your faithful friend, who very persistently asked you to walk with her, but you just stood aside and watched what was happening, sometimes looking at huge and picturesque icons, looking at them only as from the side of the creation of art, in which invested years of effort. But you've always been true to yourself more than anyone else. Out of the corner of your eye, only sometimes you can notice the tall and huge shadow of a dark-haired man, apparently a priest leading the service.