At St. Tikhon’s Monastery


By Andrew Milewski

“Oh, there’s a catfish.”

The beast lifted its body out of the depths and turned around countless fry. She didn’t notice anything from above except a pair of shadows. One shade bent in, raising his hand and skipping it across the bank.

“I think I scared ‘em away,” the shade said.

“So, will we see some monks?” asked the other.

The shade shook his head and saw a mosaic icon, iridescent in the distance. As they approached it, they turned their backs eastward and almost lost themselves in the light.

“The monks live here,” the shade said.

“Look, it’s crumbling.”




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