The dark, enclosed truck finally stops. Though we aren’t on a bus, the previous night’s sentence tells me we’ve arrived at the university. I know what’s coming next—I’ll soon have to strip and face the cross where they’ll tie me. The thought fills me with deep shame. This is how I’m going to...
This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.