Baptism by Humiliation. Enlightenment through Remorse.
A honey-soaked voice-over follows me around, testifying to all that I endure.
The Prophet Rises Before Dawn, Cleanses and Girds Himself. In Perpetual Hunger, He Imbibes a Scalding Elixir, Waits on Customers, Calls on Suppliers.
[This post is an excerpt from Diary of a Heretic, the novel. Click here to read the first episode, or here to read the previous one.]
To get through the day I imagine myself playing an exalted role of the insanely exalted role Carlos was fattening me for.
In a Shaft of Light The Prophet Concentrates on Everyone’s Pain and Suffering, Everywhere.
Extremely juvenile, I know, but the game comforts me.
Carlos acts as if as if I’m no longer present. He makes donuts, cakes and pies early and phones realtors later, looking to buy a space that would combine living quarters for seven, hold activities for two hundred, and show off a glorious, new bakery. Meaning whenever the subject of mortgages comes up, lo! the scales fall from his eyes.
He can see me again!
“How much have you got?” He means in addition to the business and the building. “No shit.” He’s squeezing my shoulders, basking in my presence. The mere mention of my 350 thou in savings—the result of my never having gone anywhere or done anything but work in this shop—earns me a few hot moments of adulation.
He gives me a maddening, lingering caress. I still want him desperately, but unless we’re talking down payments, Carlos is totally indifferent to me.
(Click here to read the next episode...And if you enjoyed this excerpt, please visit Amazon.com, where Diary of a Heretic, the novel, has been selected as a Semi-Finalist for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award. If you download the free excerpt and write a mini-review, it will help me get to the Finalist stage.)
