I watched the high school principal slipping from the confessional booth, rosaries clutched in her hand, her face streaked with tears and instead of feeling concern you felt elated. I had been sweltering in the church for what felt like forever, the time spent waiting had almost convinced you to leave but now you were glad you hadn't as anticipation coursed through your veins, your heartbeat drumming to an insatiable rhythm.
The light flicked on above confessional, marking the start of your turn. I had made sure to be the last parishioner and by now it was getting late, leaving nobody in the church but you and Father Julio. You weren't sure if you were going to confess everything, you didn't even know if you would confess anything more than skipping work to spend the day watching your fav
