The ritual cleansing and dressing of bodies. Like clockwork cuckoos we bumble and gambol into formation, mechanistically march from our living quarters through the courtyard gardens and into the temple. Formerly, this was a place of light and life. A secluded haven for the Daughters of the Despairing God to worship in peace. A tight cocoon of warm colors, sandalwood incense burning in brass censers, whispered pleas for the strength needed to do the work. I sat silently throughout the service, gestured at the appropriate intervals, responded automatically to Judith’s calls. Finally, she
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