The elders welcomed me as if Moses himself had descended from the mountain as in the holy books, except, instead of tablets of stone, I carried a battered laptop tucked under my arm.
When they walked into the cathedral, God watched them walk. When the bullets prepared to leave the gun, they left the gun. The prayers shielded nothing. The father against his son shielded nothing. The bullet will always obey, find a way through the body's anxious defense. I am tired of writing about my country. Every …
