His Collar in One Hand
Father Brautigan, his collar in one hand, stood over Jim’s crumpled body. They were alone in the tenement; no one heard Jim cry out for help as he fell. His bones—ribs, legs, an arm—were broken. His clothes were wet and sticky with sweat and blood.
Brautigan prayed over him. He would die soon, the priest knew.
As Father Brautigan finished the final rite, Jim said to him, “God has forgiven me. Why can’t you?”
“What you did to that little girl—” the priest said and crushed Jim’s skull with a crowbar.
This was written after reading this conversation about a boxer from New Zealand who may not be allowed to compete in the Olympics because of a previous conviction of manslaughter of his five month old baby.