The Confession

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Man: “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been… quite some time since my last confession. I was once one of your fold. But since then I’ve lost my way.”

Priest: “Don’t worry my child. The lord is always ready to welcome his lost sheep back into his fold. His love is all-encompassing. This is just the first step. A confession can cleanse your soul and make you ready to receive the Lord’s bountiful love.”

Man: “Clean? I have committed a grievous sin and my soul is tarnished with the action. For three days my dreams have been full of a burning firmament raining down fires and brimstones. God is angry with me. I can’t find His benevolence in my dreams.”

Priest: “It is your conscience guiding you down the right path. The Lord loves penitent souls. Go on. What has brought you to the Lord’s doors?”

Man: “I was tired. Wabbit of trying to gain her respect. Didn’t I love her with all my heart and soul? Why couldn’t I be enough? But my rival was no ordinary human. Her love for me was eclipsed by her love for the Church. Her aura of injured dignity and unspoken disdain of my choices would cut my heart in two. Didn’t she know, blood and flesh are as relevant to the Church as to a butcher?”

But I was wrong. It wasn’t the Lord she loved, but the Lord’s minions. She was just a wanton philandering bitch. Nothing more. Not the saint she pretended to be with her Church bazaars and her baking and choir practices… Oh, how she whimpered, begging me… In the end, I WAS good enough for her.

Priest: Who are you talking about? Just WHAT have you done?

Man: “Wasn’t I clear? I was talking of my wife, the biggest sanctimonious bitch I had the misfortune to marry.”

Priest: “What did you do to your wife? No, don’t tell me! I don’t want to know.”

Man: “She had an encounter with someone who loved her to death. My beloved machete!  How it kissed her lovingly, stroking her all over that alabaster skin, making it blush scarlet. A quid pro quo in return for my sanity. Now she is nice and cold inside the chiller in my butcher’s shop, somewhere she never put her foot in.”

Priest: “Oh, you fiend! Hail Marys can’t save a soul like yours.”

Man: “Hail Marys! Tch, tch… Did you two recite them together for forgiveness when you were done, Father? Or did you take the Lord’s name when you crested the peak? Wouldn’t you love a little more love? My trusted machete is eager to kiss you and make love to you, just like it did to your whore, my wife. Nice and slow…

Don’t worry! Unlike your faith, it doesn’t care who it favors, male or female. It embraces all equally, just like your loving Lord.”


Disclaimer: The story is an imaginary work and does not intend to hurt anyone’s religious sentiments.

Pic credit : Michael Gaida from Pixabay





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