Prompt for: February 8, 2013 Subject or Theme: Absolution (ohhh, so many places to go with this one!) Word(s) to Include: (none) Forbidden Word(s): guilt(y), sin(s/ner/s) Additional Parameters: Minimum 20 lines. "Our own acts are isolated and one act does not buy absolution for another." ~William Butler Yeats Absolution Confessional box hides the priest within, a thick grate separates two similar souls. Forgive me, Father…he begins, spilling forth the refuse; expecting forgiveness. Inside, sheltered by a white collar, blackened interior, the listener tightens his fist around his grandmother’s rosary. He knows this voice, keeps his silence and in doing so enters a realm he never thought to tread. My brother, he thinks… My brother, smiles the other with full expectation that recitation of a few Pator Nostors and several more Hail, Marys, will be his sentence. The string in his grandmother’s rosary breaks, beads bounce and one rolls free from under age-blackened cherry wood and stops, catching a glint of Saturday morning sun. The penitent bends, picks up the bead and puts it in his pocket, smiling. What good is a rosary missing a vital part? What would you have me say, my…son? Is there absolution for the damned? The fruit of your loins is innocent and you will be sure this child has all he needs. You will officiate at his baptism and you will give him as a first name, your second, reversing the two. This child will bear your surname. Go now, remembering your station. Cardinal Luigi Paulo left the confessional, disturbed that he couldn’t simply have this child washed away. But would now be expected to wash away the transgressions of man from young Paulo Luigi. Inside the confessional, Bishop Eduardo Stefan got down on his knees and collected the fallen rosary beads. On the day Paulo Luigi received his First Communion, he received a rosary from his uncle. Seven generations later it passed into the hands of my child. Absolution. |