There’s this old church a few miles out into zone six. Its white paint is peeling and most of the windows are boarded up. On the side there’s a faded mural and a message that says, “You asked for a sign, and now here it is… GOD.”
Inside, the walls are covered with graffiti. People come and spray all of their negative thoughts and worries onto the dirty plaster and then go on their ways, leaving the bad things behind.
Most killjoys will go there at least once in their lives, but some go once a month, and others go a few times a week. Some who visit even pray (to God, to the Phoenix Witch, to DESTROYA, to any other deity they might recognize.) And some go just to sit and think, the broken stained glass crunching like gravel under their boots.