An Antidote for Smells & Bells

The incense thickens the air of the church to the consistency of the fog that hangs over Brooklyn on this unseasonably warm Christmas Eve. I have no idea how the choir is managing to keep from coughing up a lung in the middle of the Vaughn Williams.

I escape through a side door to keep from making a spectacle of myself and have my coughing fit out in the wet night air of a quiet courtyard. 

A priest steps out from the sacristy while choir continues to sing and approaches me with a look of concern,  saying, "Can I get you some water?"