By Published On: November 30th, 2021295 words1.5 min read

“Do you ever miss anything about your faith?” asked Crandall’s therapist.

Crandall readjusted in his chair and looked out the window. A school bus was dropping off some kids in front of a high-rise apartment building. The yellow bus popped against the rainy city backdrop.

“I miss eternal life,” he sighed.

It felt strange to miss something you didn’t believe in anymore.

Crandall removed his glasses and set them on the mahogany table in front of him.

“This might be weird to say but this office feels so secular.”

“How so?”

“I mean, that’s partially why I like coming here. It’s honest. Safe. This place feels like we’re all going to die someday.”

“Aren’t we?”

Crandall started tapping his right foot. “Yes, yes we are…for me, death used to be a little blip. Of course it was inevitable. But it wasn’t final. I do miss that. That strange warm feeling that everything was going to be alright. Peace, I suppose.”

“Do you think you could still find peace with how you see the world now?”

“Wouldn’t that be nice.”

“Have you examined why you’re skeptical about your ability to find peace again?”

The bus had driven off a few minutes prior, but one of the kids who had gotten off was still standing in the sidewalk, looking down.”

Crandall pointed out the window. “I kind of feel like that little kid across the street. I’m off the bus but I haven’t gone anywhere yet.”

“Maybe you’re waiting for something?”

“I don’t think I am. I think I’m still just feeling the concrete. It’s firm and unmovable and unforgiving.”

“And honest.”

“Yes, it hasn’t promised me much of anything.”