Losing my…religion?
My head is in my hands, I am lost in the throes of my cold. Ennui and Drixoral fight for control of my very soul. And then…
She: “Are you praying to Cletus?”
I slowly raise my eyes, and as I do, I feel the devil’s fire on my tongue.
Me: “No, I pray to Bufford.”
She’s silent for a moment. The moment passes. Her holy wrath decends upon my world-weary head like a shot of Vicks Vapor Rub.
She: “Heathen! How dare you go to the church across the street! Let me tell you about my God. Cletus! Cletus is good!”
As she speaks, I feel my sinuses clear. I can breathe! Cletus! Cletus must be good!
Me: “Testify, Sister, Testify!”
