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Forgiveness is a bitch "Forgive me father, for I have sinned," I proclaimed. "Only by the will of Lord Almighty will you be forgiven," replied the preist. "But first, my child, tell me your story." The tender, innocent and earthly tone of the priest struck me like lightening. As I opened my mouth to narrate to him the happenings of the day that pained my insides my whole life, I sensed the burden of resisting the temptation of my ego had been lifted off my ageing shoulders. Relief... The dark, oak wood of the confession box I was in, seemed to fade away and resemble that day in May, 1932, where my crime was committed. Excruciating flashbacks seemed to haunt me as I recounted the incidents that were witnessed by none other than me and my Lord, all those decades ago... " The scene was set: It was downtown New York and the stock exchange had just collapsed; "the American Dream," as it had been called, had just been extinguished for me and a million other hard-working citizens of New York. ...read more.


As I gently ventured towards him and into the unknown, all seemed to come alive: the delicate thump of the concrete floor beneath echoed in my ear at every passing step I took; the golden oak trees down by the side of the road swayed to and fro, excited for what was to come. As I glanced to the left; I had a glimpse of a scurrying squirrel dashing up a tree, appearing to hint of an inevitable danger. The time was coming. Looking the other way, curtains were being drawn to close the view of the street. Did these things know of what was to come? Or was it mere coincidence that everything fit into place to became one simple, jigsaw puzzle? At that precise moment, I felt a just of wind stroking my neck faintly, yet with purpose. The time had come. Getting closer, I noticed the man seemed to be murmuring words of some sought. Jesus, Lord and protection were the words I caught. ...read more.


It was a spurn of the moment thing, something I could never do again. I ran away for all those years only to come back to the scene of the crime to seek forgiveness from you, oh holy father. Why I did such a thing? God Almighty will probably never know himself..." "Holy father you call me? Well holy father my ass!" BANG! A bullet bolted into my heart, through the confession box. "I AM JOSPEH McINTOSH SENIOR. That man you killed was my only child," They were the only words I heard before I felt the piercing bullet sink through me, making me unconscious and leaving me to a coma which was to overwhelm me for 25 years, giving me enough time to write this story on my hospital deathbed. I was all alone, except that I had company with one thing: a miniature bible with the words Joseph McIntosh Junior written on the back cover, that I was to read in guilt before my demise. ...read more.

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