Confessions by Jason Osisiogu
“It happened last night,” whispers the voice from the other side of the confessional. “What, my dear child?” the Reverend inquires. “He hit me… My husband.” When a priest has received confessions for almost a decade, declarations such as this only stir pithy, impersonal admonitions. But the Reverend is no ordinary cleric. He prides himself in this. Why else has he ascended rapidly through the ranks of the clergy and received ample admiration from the laity? “But, my child, you…