An excerpt from my novel, Diary of a Heretic: Click here to read the previous episode, and here to start from the beginning.
All week I’ve jumped up and down, thinking, “The first New C. of C. meeting was perfect, it was perfect!” Then this afternoon, driving west on Armitage, I got distracted and skipped a beat and the next thing I knew, doubt crept in, changing the refrain to: “How do you know it was perfect? What if it wasn’t?”
In front of me was a low-riding station wagon with half a jacket hanging from the trunk. One sleeve was dragging on the ground and the back kept filling with air, forming half a torso and then deflating as the car slowed down. Was the first meeting of the New College of Complexes really perfect? Or really a waste?
This billowing worry thrummed through me: perfect, waste; perfect, waste. . .
(Click here to read the next episode.)
