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For couples onlySunday school was over and the church service was more than ten minutes underway. There'd be hell to pay at supper. Though Faith's mother was a wonderful cook, no one would enjoy the meal. Her father would see to that, as he always did when they failed to show up for Sunday morning worship. A private sermon was in order, and though he'd heard it enough times to memorize it word for word, it still left him feeling like the worst of sinners for not caring sufficiently for Faith to look after her soul by making sure that she was in a front pew when her father delivered his message of the week to the small flock. Reaching for a cigarette, Boyd wondered why they'd forgotten to set the alarm. He had the cigarette in his mouth and lit before he was awake enough to remember anything of last night's activities. His hand trembling slightly, he shook out the match and sucked a deep pull of smoke down into his lungs. The dead match fell into the ash tray with a tiny tinkle. He exhaled with a sigh, turning to look at Faith. A sleeping angel ...» |
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