Simon's Involuntary Trip to Paradise

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Simon breathed deeply as he stood up from his kneeling position. He loved the relaxing feeling the church gave him. He didn’t tend to let people know how his religion affected him; his friends would probably call him a sissy if he told them. They didn’t understand how greatly this place affected him. Not even he could explain it. Still, the glow of the alter candles at night, the cross that rested at the front of the establishment, the stained glass windows that altered the morning light seemed to make him long for the church every day. “Simon, it’s time to close up and leave,” Simon’s father told him. Simon almost didn’t want to leave. He could tell something bad was going to happen. He didn’t know how he knew; he just felt an uncomfortable twist in his stomach after he left the church every morning and night. “Yes father.” Simon blew out the candles. Once they were extinguished he felt the pain. It was worse this time; almost as bad as his epileptic episodes. They weren’t on the same level, but they still made him ignore everything around him. Simon’s father called his name and snapped him out of his pain driven daze. He rushed toward his father who was standing at the exit of the church. His father held the door out for him and Simon left the one true place where he felt most at peace. It was dark outside and the air was chilled. A slight breeze came and ruffled Simon’s short, dark hair. The streets where he and his father walked on were almost as dark as the

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