Redemption Road

25

He woke early because he could feel it out there. Endings. Exposure. Police were pulling bodies from beneath the church, and they’d find something eventually. A fingerprint. DNA.

The photograph…

Lying in the dark of his bed, he worried most about the people close to him. Would they understand?

Maybe, he thought.

Maybe that was the last piece.

Feeling his way through the house, he went to the bathroom, flicked a switch, and blinked in the sudden light. Whose face was this staring back, whose doubt-filled, aging features? He frowned because life had not always been this way. There’d been youth and promise and purpose.

That was before the break.

The betrayal.

He’d learned since then to hide the emotions that drove him. Smile if expected. Say the right things. But inside him was this raging desolation, and it was not enough to simply live with it. He had to wear so many masks. They slipped on and off with such ease that he forgot at times who he really was.

A good man.

A bad one.

Spreading his hands on the sink, he stared at the mirror until he found the right face staring back. If an ending was near, he intended to confront it without distraction or regret. It was a new day. He would not fear.

In the shower, he scrubbed himself not once, but twice. Afterward, he put on lotion and combed his hair. He shaved with great care and found the appearance appropriate. If the day was to be an ending, so be it.

Smooth and slick he’d come into the world.

Smooth and slick he’d leave it.