Joel Crofoot

“Turning up Gower Street, she was headed to the First Presbyterian Church, not that she had suddenly decided to become born again or some shit. No, there was an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting that was about to let out, so she figured she would drop off a little gift by the exit. Nothing big, just the six pack. That was not why she had come, of course, but why pass up the opportunity to lead someone into temptation?”

“Give it up to God,” they’d say, or “He won’t give you more than you can handle.” Fuck that. He preferred to just stay here and kill things.”

“The last thing he wanted was to see the bright, shining, happy faces of the other angels up there.”