I don't feel any different. But something has changed. That act of gathering and piling together those stones, then lying down in the cold wind, for maybe just a couple of minutes. How long does one remain lying on a homemade altar before God has accepted his offering?
It´s late now. Almost midnight. The last guests have gone home, and John and Chris and I had a lot of work to do cleaning up afterward. This girl, Mora, really wanted to talk to me. I have met her casually at church, but I don't think she really knows anything about me. and John and Christopher have been very discreet and respectful about me. At least, as far as I can tell. I imagine they already have figured out that I am a charity case, otherwise why would someone my age be staying in the home of their priest and his teenage son?
But what absolutely ordinary people. They all have their jobs, their classes, their social circles and especially their families. I don't think anyone here, other than me, has ever experienced poverty. and I am absolutely sure that no one who was under this roof today has ever cross-dressed, or stood on the street corner, or sucked cocks for money.
I rather like this nondisclosure, this having such a set of secrets that would completely ruin their day if any of them should really know anything about me. It gives me a certain sense of power. Not necessarily over them, but if feels more like a protective power. So, I am not telling them anything, not because of shame and embarrassment, but because I am not going to cede not even one iota of my power to any of those people. It would be too much for them. It would be like slapping a child....
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