The Path Not Followed

It was raining hard. The wipers on my car thwapped back and forth, as fast as they could go, and still I couldn’t see much of anything out there. My hands, wrinkled and liver-spotted, gripped the wheel so hard my knuckles went white. Lights from the city flashed by in a blur. Not a soul…

Father Valentine

The priest watched the dust scatter along the temple steps, stirred up by the day’s first breeze. He wondered if his head would roll along the very same steps by day’s end. It was his favorite hour. At sunrise in Rome, time felt stretched out before the sun’s golden rays—full of life, possibility, and today:…