This Abandoned Church Is Counting People

They say the church was never abandoned. It was left alone. Its doors were never locked.

Because locks are for keeping things out. This place only counts

what comes in. Every step across the threshold makes the pews groan. Not from rot.

From weight. As if something unseen has just taken a seat beside you.

The stone walls are carved with tallies. Hundreds of them. Cut deep.

Slow. Careful. Locals say each mark is not a prayer. It is a number.

The bells do not ring on Sundays. They ring when the count changes. Those who linger

hear whispers in the rafters. Not sermons. Names. Sometimes their