...and I feel a bit queasy about it, what with all the begging and rejection connected to it in my future. Yay! Jenny's writing! Oh, goodie, more Faith and Jessup. I have been writing too. I've been working on confession-ing and expanding The Gladstone Bag (it's way too short, also shallow). Bob, I absolutely love the image of Fred eating the road with his eyes. Perfect. I'm going to steal that first chance I get, I'm warning you.
September 2--It was Sunday morning--The church bells began to chime as Lindy picked up her purse and hurried down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. Good thing she lived so close to St. Cecilia's or she'd be late for Mass. Sam had groaned and rolled over when she'd asked him if he wanted to go to church with her, he'd tried to tug her back into bed for a little slap-and-tickle but she was already half dressed so she gave him a little promissory peck and pulled away. She had hoped to get there early enough to go to confession before Mass, especially now that she had impure thoughts racing through her mind, but she was late. God would just have to be content with a few Hail Marys muttered under her breath as she hurried across the street. She was so intent on the door of the church she didn't hear the black sedan careening around the corner being chased by three wailing squad cars. Lindy was halfway through her second Hail Mary when the shiny chrome bumper met her hip.
See you tomorrow night. Remember the prospective Jennifer will be there so bring an exercise.
--Barbara
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