The Power of Prayer

You have brains in your head.You have feet in your shoes.You can steer yourself any direction you choose. – Dr. Seuss

Far below the stained glass and other decorative frivolity of the church was its true epicenter. Here, closer to their true God, they made their offerings to HIM, and were rewarded through HIS boons. Tonight was a special night, for HIS thirst was vast, best satiated by the blood of the innocent. The child had been “rescued” from a crack-addict prostitute living in a nearby tenement. The mother had supposedly been gang raped as a punishment for taking the night off and that was when the child was conceived. It would otherwise be impossible to distinguish the father but this attack had left her hospitalized for a month. She would be found dead in the morning thanks to the “hot shot” that they had provided her, but the child would never be found.

He cried as his flesh touched the obsidian altar. The chants from all around him, while low and melodic, did not soothe the child. Perhaps he could sense the spirits of the countless others who had died in the exact same place over the last millenia. Perhaps he was but tired and alone. The rites were performed and the blood ran down into the canals carved into the floor. The fire flickered in the mirrored surface of Soth Nasooth’s Reptilian eyes.

The next morning the Mass centered around the need for humanity and to treat well those around you. Father Callahan could still taste the blood he had drank the night before. Thankfully, the Communion wine failed to wash away its succulent flavor from his palatte. The collection plate did not disappoint. Things were proceeding well.

My girlfriend and I went on a picnic. I don't know how she did it, but she got poison ivy on the brain. When it itched, the only way she could scratch it was to think about sandpaper. –Steven Wright