This is for Wattpad Contests #59.

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"The family is where we are formed as people. Every family is a brick in the building of society"

Pope Francis

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Monday through Saturday passed quietly in the town of Bakers Row.

Sunday was different.

Sunday, they went to church.

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As the clock in the town plaza struck nine on the dot, people filed into the church in ones and twos, filling each pew. There were ten pews on either side, which sat five people each. As the last person took their seat, the pews were almost perfectly completed, ninety-nine seats taken.

One seat remained open, waiting.

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The church was the oldest building in the town. Like all of the surrounding architecture that had followed, the church was crafted out of red bricks, each layer held together with mortar that had been smoothed by hand. The same craftsmanship existed in every other building in Bakers Row, and the same craftsmen filled the pews of the church.

Bakers Row had gotten its name from the bricks. The bakers in question had not been baking bread but rather bricks in hot kilns. What had originally been just a single street in a city became an entire town as the rest of the city fell away, leaving only the craftsmen behind. Then the church had been built, and other structures - the library, the town hall, the clock tower - had followed.

The service began with worship, and then all ninety-nine sat back down as the pastor began his sermon.

The clock chimed nine forty-five, and the sermon concluded. It was time for communion.

"Then one of the disciples took a cup, gave thanks, and gave it to Jesus, saying, "Drink from it,  for this is my blood."

Two of the townspeople sitting on opposite end caps of the first row stood and each produced a circular tray filled with small plastic cups. The second person in the pew held the tray as the first person removed a razor from their pocket. The first person dragged the blade along their palm before squeezing their hand shut. Rivulets of blood ran down their hand, hesitating where the flesh ended before dropping into the cup.

After the cup was nearly full, the first person opened their hand, slipping the razor back into their pocket and coming back with a length of gauze instead. They wrapped it twice around the hand before sitting back down in the pew.

By this point, the second person in line was now offering their blood, the third person holding the tray, and so on and so forth, each person supporting the other, offering of themselves as the tray was passed.

Soon, ninety-nine cups were full.

The clock chimed ten, and the church emptied.

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The new building - an empty house on the end of the main street - was under construction, albeit slow construction. Each week only added ninety-nine bricks to the pre-existing layers.

Eventually, the house would be finished and filled, and there would be one hundred cups at the next communion, and a hundred bricks the following week.

The bricks shone blood-red under the full sun.

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"All in all you're just another brick in the wall"Roger Waters

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hey everyone, thanks for reading! i didn't have time this week to fully prepare something, but i wanted to use this idea. look up jack munro, the latest source of my inspiration

also the bible verse was reversed for this story; see 1 Corinthians 11:23-25