The Confession

The man knelt, abject before the church. Alone in the pooled sunlight leaking through colored glass.

"She was a good girl," he said to God's empty cathedral.

Rope fibers crisscrossed the caked blood on steeple hands.

"Take this cup from me," he prayed.

The sudden, cataclysmic pain at the core of his chest felt—heavenly.

 

R.S. Guthrie.

 

The Confession is a post from: Aztec Books