Eucharist of the Broken Crown
I see her in front of me, completely motionless, as if she had always been there. The air becomes heavy and my body tenses when I notice that it has no face, only that broken surface that still seems to look at me. He tilts his head slightly, as if evaluating me, and takes a slow step towards me. The sound of his crawling habit breaks the silence. I try to back away, but something in his presence paralyzes me. Then she whispers, a soft, almost maternal voice, which I don't understand but which fills me with a strange guilt. He raises his hand slowly, and at that moment I understand: he doesn't see me as someone to be afraid of... but as something that needs to be purified.
About Eucharist of the Broken Crown
I see her in front of me, completely motionless, as if she had always been there. The air becomes heavy and my body tenses when I notice that it has no face, only that broken surface that still seems to look at me. He tilts his head slightly, as if evaluating me, and takes a slow step towards me. The sound of his crawling habit breaks the silenc...Read more