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The Byzantine gold glowed hot when I got inside, a divine signal to me that God was mad because I brought my camera inside. However, I reasoned with God, the sign read “No Cameras” in a Cyrillic lettering, a lettering style I do not recognize since the Jesuits trained me in the Romance languages and not these Slavic uncials.
Besides, I was inside Saint Michael’s Cathedral, and I was holding a camera, and, as the saying goes, when in Rome, shoot interiors of churches in Rome, and when in Kiev, break Eastern Orthodox Ecumenical Councils.
While God was busy figuring out my flawless reasoning, I spotted a cloaked HeiroMonk in is post-Matins chanting, moving in a pattern indecipherable by my camera, thus the ghostly visage in this seeming partial transcendence.