Story by Gregory M. Fox
from A Breath of Fiction’s archives

* * *

“Tell me, do you believe in God, John?”


“And do you believe in his son?  That Jesus died for our sins?”

“I do.”

“God bless you, John.  God bless you for doing his will.”

John checked his watch.  This tiny Hispanic woman had latched onto him after he gave her a five.  In his heart, he believed this God’s will, but he was beginning to think that she had a different idea of what that meant.  Now he found himself putting ten dollars on her gas card.

As they walked out she said, “Don’t worry, the grocery store is close.”

He paused.  “I’m sorry, but I have to go.  I’ve done all I can.”

“John … think of God John.”

He couldn’t bear those eyes.  Beneath her look of confusion, there was something else.  Disappointment?  Certainly.  Anger?  Possibly.  But what frightened him most was the subtle disdain that glistened just beneath her gaze.  She thought herself more holy, and perhaps she was.  “I’m sorry,” John said, “I wish I could do more, but I just can’t.”

“John …” she trailed off.

For a moment there was silence.  “I—I’ll pray for you,” he said quietly, then slowly turned and walked away. 

* * *

Photo by Jaee Kim on Unsplash

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