Jude walks onto the platform. Everyone settles into silence.
He looks so sure of himself. Looking over his congregation, he
smiles. He approaches the pulpit. A serious look creeps over
his face, one I recognize from Monday when he told me to
leave. I bet if I squeeze him, hot, sulfurous lava would flow
outta his ears; that’s how determined he looks.
“I’ve put a spirit in you,” he bellows.
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