Rosary girls

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He is drunk.

That will make my job easier. Slower reflexes, diminished capacity, poor depth perception. I could wait for him outside the bar, walk up to him, announce my intentions, then cut him in half.

He wouldn't know what hit him.

But where's the fun in that?

Where is the lesson?

No, I think it is best for people to know. I realize that there is a good chance I will be stopped before I can complete this passion play. And if I am, one day, walked down that long corridor, and into an antiseptic room, and strapped to a gurney, I will accept my fate.

I know that I will be judged by a much greater power than the commonwealth of Pennsylvania when my time comes.

Until then, I will be the one sitting next to you in church, the one who offers you a seat on the bus, the one who holds the door for you on a windy day, the one who bandages your daughter's scraped knee. That is the grace of living in God's long shadow. Sometime the shadow turns out to be nothing more than a coat tree. Sometimes the shadow is everything you fear.