It was hard to decide what to post from Fall for Me for this week's Six Sentence Sunday. Finally, I chose something that shows Matilde's complexity. Yes, she's powerful and dangerous and passionate, but she also struggles with her human morals versus her daemonic compunctions. It isn't easy being a daemon in death; especially if you were a Catholic in life. Now living in New York, Matilde has gathered her nerve and gone to Confession for the first time in sixty-seven years. (And I hope I'll be forgiven for going one sentence over the limit again this week. Sorry.)
---------------- The familiar odor of resin filled my nose, and I felt comforted by the dim light and the mystery of Confession. But the priest’s sweet scent, wafting through the grille, disturbed that comfort. I peered through the carved divider.
The boyish priest leaned forward, his face pressed against the dark wood, his eyes wide and straining to discern my face.
His scent permeated the narrow space, and I bit the inside of my cheek until I felt the sharp sting of torn flesh and tasted blood.
I held my breath for a heartbeat, trying to quell my misgivings and battling my unholy urges, then I began my confession. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned...."
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