Misery, thy name is migraine. Leave this temple, which is already oft-profaned. I looked at Madeline. Her irises were green reflections of the concern in my own eyes. We were sure that the preacher had lost it. Begone from my sight, he said, and suddenly, I was out of my own body. There was white light above the preacher’s head. I looked to Madeline, and she was floating above her own body too.