When the Sparrow Falls

by Neil Sharpson

All in the past now. He had fallen too far, and now there was nothing left to do but fall the last six feet.

Whoever could inspire fear was rich, whoever lived in fear was poor.

Born of earth and flesh. Created in the image of God. Second only to the angels. And as such, we suffered.

“I have missed you,” I said, and the words felt so paltry and small compared to the thing they were trying to describe.

“Everyone’s soul is unique,” she continued. “And just as your body is built with the protein and calcium and iron you consume every day, your soul is built with words. The words you read, and the words you hear. The soul consumes words, and then it expresses itself through them in a way that is unique to that soul.”

Everyone thought they were protecting the legitimate order from an illegal coup. Who was the government? The ones who lived. Who were the rebels? The ones who died.”

It is only natural that human beings would consider human suffering to be evil, indeed that in the human schema they are practically interchangeable. But suffering is not evil in and of itself. Almost nothing in human history has been achieved without some measure of pain or misery. Suffering is not evil if it is for a greater purpose and a greater good, only suffering that is futile is evil.

“Did you order Sally Coe to beat Papalazarou to death with a golf club?” “No. I told her to ‘take care of it.’ I don’t like to micromanage.”

Sally Coe was enduring a miserable existence, living on a diet of alcohol and bitter resentment.