He’d first seen Ano through his car window, sprawled by the roadside, surrounded in clumps by an empathetic crowd that wouldn’t touch him. They even dissolved when his car halted there, like the pain lining Ano’s tired face did when he told him about Jesus days later.
“He loves me?”
The priest nodded then proffered a Bible before leaving, “He’ll talk to you.”
Next morning, the priest blanched as he watched copious saliva slither down an angle of the smile on Ano’s blissful face. A note peeped from the open bible cuddling his head.
“Need to see this Jesus badly.”