The Watcher lifted
his binoculars and looked again at the tableau in the garden of the house on
the other side of the block. His heart
began to beat and he felt dizzy. For
many heartbeats he could not believe what he was seeing. The twink!
Right there. Nearby. God had delivered him into his hands. All his doubts had been wrong. It was a clear sign that God wanted him to go
on with his work, to rid the world of these abominations. He would get them all; the twink; his
handsome friend; the old ladies too. Father
McAlister’s Irish burr sounded in his head.
Oh, good boy!
Tears trickling
down his cheek, the binoculars falling unheeded to the floor, he fell to his
knees and began to pray.
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