HOLY MAN

Skinner felt terrible.

He had just lied.

Now, he was a thief, yes, but that didn't stop him from having a conscience.

He and Tom had been sharing a drink, up in the conning tower after dinner when the topic of religion had come up. Tom had asked him if he was a holy man, if he went to church on Sundays.

"Never was, Sawyer, and probably never will be."

That had been his reply. Now he felt terrible for it, because the truth was that he was a churchman.

Every Sunday, after mass, he would sit at one of the back pews, right through the sermon. Then after that he would go for the confessions. Every week, he would confess his sins; all the thefts, and other pretty crimes he committed in the name of survival.

The priest always tried to get him to stop his crimes, but Skinner had to find means in which to get food; after all, a man had to eat, didn't he?

Right now, though, all that wasn't in his head. He still felt terrible for lying to his friend. He didn't want anyone to know that he went to mass and church and all that. Even on the Sundays, he would leave his coat and hat somewhere and attend the sermon, well, naked.

Skinner sighed, and looked up at the church in front of him. With another resolute sigh, he went in, coat and all. It was a Sunday, after all.

He made his way to the confessionals. Shutting the screen behind him, Skinner sat down and crossed himself.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned..."