When the mob came for the priest

It was the cat that awoke me. I started from my wicker seat, the one that my parents had bought me when I left the seminary. I was startled awake from my siesta, and my prayer book fell from my lap, and my glasses with it. I blinked at the broken spectacles. I scrabbled at the frames in fury, and only managed to cut my hand on the thick, broken glass. The welling blood on Continue reading When the mob came for the priest