Ordinary Grace

by William Kent Krueger

I sat on the steps of my father’s church thinking how much I loved the dark. The taste of what it offered sweet on the tongue of my imagination. The delicious burn of trespass on my conscience. I was a sinner.

I realized that although I hadn’t acknowledged it I’d thought that my own family was better, special somehow, and that we were indestructible. That day seemed to be on the far side of forever ago and now I saw on Peter’s face the same look I’d probably given him back then and I understood that he was afraid for me and for my family and I knew he was right to be.