A rare moment of clarity at the end of my fingers. Little things fluttering about my face in the darkness, touching the hairs on my leg, my arm. I rub my sleeve up, my upper arm is scattered with hair, a tattoo, a vaccination scar. Vivid memory of children standing in line, sleeves pulled up, school nurse saving our lives. There is terror in our eyes, in our vivid imaginations. Nothing takes away the sting, nothing prepares us for the feeling, the four-pointed circle, needles poking four holes, delivering the salvation.Jesus at the pulpit, unhappy man, he won't be able to help us...unless we make Him our one and only. Cardboard cutouts of the sainted characters tell us why we need to try harder, why we need to be better, better than we think we can be. An untouched Bible living on the bookshelf next to the Buddhist books and the writing how-to's. Dust everywhere; you can't take anything off the shelf without a sneeze. God bless you... Wooden cutouts of flames, rising high, the flames of Hell, Eternal Damnation.
Stray dog walking down the sides of a two-lane highway, stumbling along, confused, lost, left behind. He'll never know what he left behind; in the next life, he'll have better things to choose from.
