The Rosary

Hail Mary full of Grace
The Lord is with you
Blessed are you among women
Blessed is the fruit of your womb Jesus…


The rosary sat coldly in his hands though he ground the beads like they were sand. Try to keep the image; it’s all he can do; try to picture the Holy Mother… to know at least someone is praying for him…

…Its funny, I have been doing it so long I don’t know anymore if it even matters, anymore… I know it used to…

It was a cold day, but warm. I know that doesn’t make any sense it just was. There was a dry rain, and I hit bottom. Let me tell you, bottom is an interesting place to be, all I can see is what is below me, and there is nothing below me. Bottom, so low in fact, I could no longer hear the conversations of the people above me. Of course every now and again someone would get close to me, but never as low as me. Bottom’s are funny though, it isn’t like I was drinking, I hadn’t pissed anyone off, I hadn’t lost my job and by no means had I hurt anyone… not even myself. Often at bottoms people have suicidal idealizations, I had none, I knew what was before me either way, hell… no, capitol H Hell. Not in death but in life, and then in death because of the waste my life had become. And it would make sense if I was addicted to drugs or alcohol if I had just lost someone important, if I was so depressed I wanted to die… of course I was just so depressed I didn’t think I could be lucky enough to die… then one way or another get stuck with eternal life.

Hail Mary Mother of God
Pray for us sinners
Now, and at the hour of our death…


I guess I am not at my death, but now… will the holy Mother come to me, and even if she could… would it matter, I hear there are some things that can’t be forgiven… A contract is often one of those things, especially when Hell has the best lawyers. I know what you’re thinking, “This nut job sold his soul to the devil.”

Let me correct you, “This nut, Job, sold his soul to the devil.” Okay so I am not necessarily the one in the book, at least not the one the book is written about, but Goethe liked me enough to put me there… Okay maybe I am not that one either. Who am I then that this Faustian deal weighs on my soul? It wasn’t a long contract; you know there wasn’t even any fine print

I, state your name, blaspheme the Spirit
Signed,

Well, you know…

There were witnesses too, what was her name… hell I don’t remember anymore; maybe I can find the document. Of course I lost it years ago…
He really hasn’t bothered me since I signed either, he got a kick out of it, I didn’t tell him I wanted anything, in all honesty, I was just sick of being fooled, so I just signed… “Easiest soul I ever knew,” he said to me as he walked away. Mephistopheles has a good sense of humor, he threw me a rosary, I am not even Catholic. Years ago I thought about converting but you know… never got around to it… was too busy… hitting bottom.

Is there grace once one signs his soul away? Sometimes I wonder why I couldn’t just be like one of those folk I see every day who sign a wee bit more away every day. If they died right now it might take some purgatory to burn that shit out, but in a few years… hell… I might have a roommate, at least in Hell.

Should I continue with this rosary, I never really took to the doctrine of Mary… I mean it’s all right, just not my thing.

Grace… Damnation… Peace… how is it I feel like I deserve all these things at the same time… maybe I will be lucky and I will find out the Evangelicals were wrong, and the Catholics, and… well most everyone, and there is annihilation of the soul. I think that is what I want anyway… for annihilation I get peace…

Well… it’s time to go. Time to sleep, perchance to dream…if I am lucky, an empty dream… where my soul is already annihilated.
Mary looked down from heaven… Mephistopheles looked up from Hell… both willing to fight for a soul. Then there was Jesus… he smiled… because he knew something more.