Excerpt
The sunshine flooded the laundry room through the
narrow and long window giving the sense of the continuity that
oversaw all small and grand as time for reflection on one’s deeds
and misdeeds, one’s positive influence and one’s stinky legacy,
such as Father Innocent who had rested in the arms of the Archangels.
Did he? One could always wonder.
George left to go to his kitchen. Anton and Dylan kept
busy with the washing machines and the driers. Anton’s mind
wouldn’t quieten down as the word skunk kept infiltrating in his
brain leaving him no choice but to come back to the same subject.
“What else you know for Father Innocent?”
Dylan shook his head; his eyes told Anton he didn’t like
to recall much regarding the dead man, what’s the use now after
all. Usually a dead person instantly becomes a myth and most
times a very good story teller creates a superb myth to the point
of utter exaggeration that never truly relates to the dead person’s
deeds and misdeeds but rather it paints a beautiful picture of
a monster, who truly looks smiling ironically to all the peons
down below who keep on praising him with lies for unfounded
accomplishments.
Libros Libertad 