carondelet

He wasn't certain exactly how long it had been since he had been a practising Catholic. Darren thought on this a moment, frozen on the church steps in mid-climb, his hands in his pockets.  He looked up at the gothic facade, taking in the great rose window, the ornamentation, the spires, the arches, and idly wondered if he might not, oh, spontaneously combust on entry. He had done some things that the Catholic Church frowned upon. He'd done some things that every church frowned upon. Right. He took in a deep breath, wincing at the chill in the air.  It was spring, early spring, but it was also New York, and that meant it was still cold ye