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You will be President and I will be far away, not thinking about politics and all the people who want to kill me.” You could have bought him for a dime and gotten back nine cents change when I dropped that bomb on him.“Sam, you had a heart condition that forced you to retire from office. I finished your term and denied you the chance to complete what you started. It’s time I gave you back the office and let you find closure. I know I need closure and I won’t find it here...”We talked about timing and I agreed to make my resignation official in two days. That was soon enough that no one would leak it and spoil Sam’s moment in the sun, and long enough for him to firm up support from his old base.It turned out perfectly.“Ladies and gentlemen,” it was two nights later and I was standing in the same spot where Sam retired. “Your support has meant the world to me as I recovered from the twin tragedies that befell our country. If not for your kind words, beautiful cards and expressions of. For her.She knelt still as the congregation filed out, content in their relationships with Christ. The old wood bit into her knees, but she kept still, watching the now-abandoned altar, until silence as heavy and insidious as the heat crept over the sanctuary.She rose. Rubbed the grooves from her skinny knees. She walked to where the red and white candles flickered on a sideboard, each flame a soul, or a sin. Their tiny fires could not compete with the incense-ravaged air hanging motionless around her.To the right of the altar was a portrait of the Madonna nursing her child. She stared at the portrait for a long time. She gazed at the suggestion of a breast's curve on the mother of Christ. She pressed her hand against her own bosom, slid her hands under the thin material of her dress. Her own breast pounded in time with her heart. It was slick with perspiration, dampness pooling on the underside of her pink sin.She sighed, licked her fingers and tasted her own salty sweat. She wiped.
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