I
waited outside, never looking at the church. I could have lured the priest into
the alley. I could have knocked over the trash, or caused someone to scream in
pain. That would have bought out of his protective chapel. But I waited. For
hours. Until finally, he appeared.
I stayed in the shadows to keep him from
seeing my face. He only needed to hear my voice. My confession. It took longer
than it should have to list all of my sins. But then again, I haven’t attempted
this in a while. I watched as he tried desperately to hide the way my words
troubled him. Before I left him, he told me all was not lost. There was hope. But
he is wrong.
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