'DESOLATE' : A GHOST STORY

at a long forgotten lutheran church with a realtors sign out front that we found in the neighborhood right next to the graveyard. the steeple doors were red and uninviting. the air was heavy yet nonetheless alluring. half of it crumpled into the ground of what once was, only the cold metal gate remaining. a tap on my shoulder i almost mistook as a helicopter seed or baby acorn, flying down, that i can now only explain as paranormal. the black shadow seen sweeping across my viewfinder as my camera failed to capture the church’s crumpling cross over their triangular congregation hall for 2 minutes straight and i still never got a single photo to take. which caused me to run into the car and forget my half empty camera bag (the ghosts protected it don’t worry.) i find it so fascinating how driving through the south, churches line the streets of wherever you happen to be; some brick and haunted, others with prophetic marquees about the devil and kindness, but all with a whole community hiding inside of the houses we pass by never thinking twice as to who’s inside. all these differing denominations right next to each other, divided by beliefs, united by a need for forgiveness (abominations.) except this one, this one got lost to time, somewhere somehow.