kcmuenster

It is yesterday as usual, and so I drive out to Poseyville which is where yesterday begins and ends. St. Francis cemetery is deserted except for two men working on a concrete pad near the chapel. I park on a gravel lane near my parents’ grave. I leave my phone in the car because the one person I want to talk to can’t be reached by phone or in any other way. Her grave is just in front of Mom and Dad’s. It is almost, but not quite, covered in grass. It seems strange for her to be here...

In the Catholic Church, today is the Memorial of Saint Agatha, Virgin and Martyr. She is pictured above with her breasts on a platter which I shall explain momentarily. Saint Agatha was being pursued by a Roman official whose name was Quintianus and who desparately wanted to marry her. Agatha did not want to marry Quintianus or any other man. She wanted to give her life to Christ and vowed to remain a virgin. Quintianus was sure he could get her to change her mind. He threatened her and...

Every day, I walk with a ghost. Actually, she is a holy spirit, but if I call her that, it may seem sacrilegious, so I’m giving her a nickname. The ghost has long, dark hair and mischievous eyes. She always wears the same thing, whatever the weather – leggings, a t-shirt with the name of a daycare on it, and a cream-colored sock hat with a pouf. She never shivers or sweats, which is irritating, but that’s a ghost for you. She never gets tired either, which is another ghostly attribute –...