Life after social media and the meandering thought stream of deep consciousness

Sums it up

Holy Tony wasn’t a cruel man. But just then he wasn’t a sane one either. And there was the rub. He’d had demons rummaging around inside his head. He felt the choking presence of sin all around him. Its stink clogging his throat. Its miasma blinding his eyes. He was steeped in blood already. He had to believe that it had been shed in a righteous cause. That he was the rod of divine justice, not some squalid lunatic. So much depended on that. Belief. Faith. The light that Christ gave us so we could find our way through the dark of the world–to kingdom come.


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