“It may as well. It can’t stay here—it would go perfectly twisted. A thousand times a day I wonder about Leonard. I wonder if my letter ever found him, and then I go back and forth…overcome one moment with joy, and the next with guilt. I should have never sent it. I should have sent it sooner. I hope he comes. I hope he stays away. These days, I find myself wishing harder and harder that he stays away, and stays safe. Every day the horror doubles. Every night I lie on my back underneath whicheve...r bastard won the coin’s toss and I remember fondly the weeks before, the months before, when I was only afraid. When I was only ashamed. When I was still alive, and not this battered shell with a mouth that dares not open, even to pray. Yes, back then. Was it a year ago, or only a few months? I measure the days in meetings. We have them every few weeks, here and there. I look forward to them in an idle way—which is wicked, I know. When we set up, when we pitch the tents and post the announcements…when we invite the unsuspecting multitudes to come and worship with us…we are killing them.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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