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SUSPECT: A Confessional Anthology


I started to call out to him and then I thought I should wait. What I had to say had to be thought out. So I sat back in the pew and watched the man walk around the church greeting people and intermittently stopping to pay homage.

So many questions encased my head at this very moment. Like why was this man so nice? Why was he so easy to talk to? With his enlightening education of my name I had to wonder why I was named Sheba in the first place.

But all of those questions would have to wait; they would have to be an afterthought because what brought me here was the biggest question of it all, how was I going to tell him that I killed three people?


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