“It was such a lovely afternoon, Father, and the flowers were so pretty, and we just took off all our clothes and…”
“You don’t need to say it, my child, I know what you did.”
Bridget heard the familiar fap, fap, fap from the adjoining booth, followed by a gasp and the pungent aroma of semen.
“Say five Hail Marys and do try not to sin again, my child.”
“Yes, Father. I do try, Father, but it’s so … hard.”
Bridget left St Finbarr’s briskly. Confessions were about to start at St Patrick’s, and she hated to be late.
