The sky becomes less beautiful in a roofless church

I was standing in a field with my uncle. We seemed to be camping. It was nearing sundown and the sky was spectacular. The sun illuminated a gigantic lone tree by the lake from behind. We walked toward the tree so I could get a photo but we had to go through a church without a ceiling to get there. As we got to the other end of the church, the sky had lost its beauty but the stars were coming out.

My camera was a SLR with a digital preview. I opened the aperture as wide as it would go and took a picture of the stars – the picture looked like an electron microscope photo of bone tissue. I was on picture 34 but couldn’t remember if I had 36 or more photos on the roll.

While walking back through the roofless church, I lit my first cigarette since quitting. A pastor in a robe gave me a dirty look but said nothing and the cherry fell off my cigarette onto the rug. The film started coming out of my camera and I was worried some pictures might be ruined.

The church was then a movie theater, but each person could stop and resume the movie without pausing it for anyone else. The screen was partially obscured by architectural columns and religious banners.