There were pews, and hips, heads bowed, lips moving in quiet prayer. The floor was marble. Yes, this had been a chapel, McChristian maybe, but so old? Where had it come from? She tried to scan the Net but found a signal error. She was cut off, in a dead zone. At the far end where she guessed an altar would normally be was a large white statue. What was that girl the McChristians worshipped? Mara? Susan? Whatever, at some point it might have been her, but the face had been carved out, roughly, leaving an empty scoop in the head. Saru didn't like the statue. She could tell that it was the source of the bullshit, that it was the thing making her hair go all staticky and running the thrill-sex touch up and down her skin.
From No Dogs in Philly: A Lovecraftian Cyberpunk Noir. Rated R. FREE forever on Amazon, iBooks, Smashwords, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, and Google Play. (Amazon users: If the book does not show as free, please log in!)
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