He’d been pretty bad about grocery shopping, nothing he bought in that vein ever seemed to last.
Of course, there were consequences.
All too frequently when he returned from work, there was absolutely nothing to eat or drink. Today hadn’t been too different, there was virtually nothing but the space between virtually and nothing is infinite so, he figured he ought to be able to work up a feast out of sweet, sherry-like but very inexpensive wine and slightly stale bread.
Then it hit him, … After many, many years, he was participating in a communion ritual! And he hadn’t confessed. He had fasted though.
© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2015; all rights reserved