The hour is late, the weather foul. A cold wind blows, rain pours. This church, dimly lit, offers refuge. The doors are unlocked. Though chill, it’s better than the storm. The church is still, quiet, save for me near the altar. The sound of footsteps draws my gaze. My expression is neutral. “The church is open to all seeking refuge. For any reason.” My voice is deep. "Do you seek shelter, or something else? I have no beds, but you may take a pew.