Repent

An exchange

A cutting pain sounds out a reverb from hoarse lungs. It washes uncomfortable vibrations across the teaming square, tweaking the delicate eardrums of the passing public. Tiny control units, engage guilt drive.

‘Payment’ he tells himself; clearing a debt of bloodshed. He oozes it across the murky city dusk, carried on the river of red still cascading down the cross in his mind’s eye.

“He paid for our sins” he wails, his point punctuated by the hot vapour escaping the tip of his tongue, swirling an accompaniment into the cool night air.