by Catherine Plato
In handwritten letters, my prison pen pal teaches me all about Jesus. When I first told her I didn’t believe, I was apologetic. But she said it was ok. She told me He forgives everyone: me for my atheism, her for aggravated kidnapping and second-degree arson. Her friend for armed robbery. Her cellmate for attempted murder.
At night I lie awake, stoned, and wonder if I were Jesus, what would piss Me off more: mortals running around setting fires and threatening each other’s lives? Or the well-behaved ones who insist I’m not even real, who ignore all my goddamn efforts?
Catherine Plato is a writer, cat mother and hallucinogen enthusiast from Oakland, CA.