somewhere in an airless airy empty place at the end of the world she paused and reconsidered. on her left was everything she had left behind, objects she had once held a deep attachment to which now seemed insignificant. her mouth bulged with words, and the swirls of her earlobes held psalms that meant enough to be memorized. this was all she had to carry; she was fairly certain she didn’t need anything else, though she felt some regret about her collection of icons and prayer cards with all their transcendent glory. she felt some regret about the love that became untrue, and the rupture of her own unshakable faith.