We Begin at the End

by Chris Whitaker

tiring of saving those so determined to die.

the priest trying to lead them from their broken lives, talk of God’s need for another angel like he knew nothing of the tortured soul that had been taken.

His new pills were still doing their job, helping him stay steady, helping him stand and walk and almost take both of those things for granted.

Agnes kept her smile though confusion tried hard to replace it.

“Death has a way of making saints out of mortals.

“About getting pregnant tonight? Nah, what will be will be.”