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April 24, 2009

Friday

You're an overachiever.

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I come to worship. Soft, lulling, music hums through the air forcing parishioners to an almost reverent solitude. Their dress is casual; the truly devout seldom care about material things. A low light makes puppet plays with the shadows. An ambient glow reflects from the shiny red oak altar; it beacons me with a promise of peace. I take my regular seat on the high-backed red cushioned pew.
“What’ll it be?”
He wipes his hands on a soiled white towel.
“Whiskey and Coke.”
I reach for my wallet. I will pay the tithe, and later, seek absolution. I’m an overachiever.

Posted by: Don Blankenship at April 26, 2009 3:57 AM · Permalink

Walter was your classic overachiever. His teachers said so. His guidance counselor said so. His parents said so. His therapist said so. The jury who convicted him of mass murder said so, too.

Surely, asked the prosecuting attorney, one victim would have sufficed, would it not? But noooo, Walter just had to go out and slaughter every fair-haired prostitute with a heart of gold who happened to give him the time of day.

Sensing the young man's utter lack of remorse, the judge sentenced him to three consecutive life sentences. In response, Walter said he could easily handle four. Typical.

Posted by: Chamomiles Davis at April 26, 2009 11:31 PM · Permalink