Weeping Surgeon

13 May


The Weeping Surgeon


“I can’t.”

The scalpel is razor sharp. The incision must be precise, or the red flow of life giving blood won’t stop. He wipes his eyes.

“I can’t.”

The theater holds its breath. The best surgeon in the world, and he can’t operate. Tears are flowing freely.

Depressed Pastors

7 May


I’m depressed. It’s Monday. I shouldn’t be really.