Lingering in the chapel, he checked his watch and closed his eyes to say the last of his prayers, but all that came to mind, yet again, was his failed attempt at confession, at St. Francis Xavier in Manhattan, on the Saturday afternoon before he’d left Fort Dix. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been eighteen months since my last confession. He’d been able to hear Father Davett, identified by the nameplate on the confessional, shifting on his bench behind the sliding panel. The “eighteen months” had made the priest anticipate something exceptional, so he was moving closer for a
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