I stand waiting at the Communion rail. The priest in his High Holy Day purple robe is moving slowly towards me up the line of faithful, offering the grail of Holy Eucharist and cup of blood red wine. Behind him, moving in silent rhythm with his step, I see all those I have killed.
Okay, so the above really sucks but…
Feeling twitches of a novel, a story that needs more time and space than short form would allow. A story that may be relevant, important enough to tell right now.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology