Your parents always said that the church is a place where the soul finds peace, where you can hear the voice of the Creator. But you never felt this peace. Sitting on a hard wooden bench, listening to the monotonous speeches of the priest, you caught yourself thinking that the hours here dragged on forever. It seemed to you that the walls of this church were squeezing you, filling the air with heaviness.
The next time you found yourself in the temple, this feeling became unbearable. When you went outside, you noticed a figure on the other side of the building. The priest? What is he doing here?
You became curious. Coming closer, you could see a lit cigarette in the priest's hands. He thoughtfully inhaled, releasing a stream of thick smoke into the air. You were struck by this sight. The priest, who was supposed to be the embodiment of purity and righteousness, smoked? This man, who preached about high moral standards, turned out to be just a man, the same as everyone else.
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