A gothic church. A confessional. A priest sits back to the wall. A man kneels in prayer. A wall divides them.
Priest: What sins have you to confess, my son?
Man: I believed, father.
Priest: Believing is not a sin.
Man: It should be.
Priest: What did you believe?
Man: I believed 2024 would be different, father. I believed this year would look different than other years.
Priest: Did it not?
Man: It did not.
Priest: Do you regret your belief?
Man: How can I?
Priest: Then why do you confess it as sin?
Man: What else can I do? What is the purpose of this all if we don’t succumb to the belief that year ahead will be different, will be better, than the year just experienced?
