A human shot itself in the head right in front of me today.
But before doing so, it picked me up, looked right into my eyes and began to pray:
"Dear God, I've been a terrible father, husband, and son. You know that from all the evil remaining in my heart, I can no longer run."
Then it began to weep.
"I beg your forgiveness for all the bad things I've done. Yet I know you won't excuse what I'm about to do with this gun."
The blood of a human now covers my entire body and face.
How bad a person could it have been to have apparently fallen so completely from grace?
And why did it recite its final prayer to me: a lowly cat, practically feral?
Now reduced to eke out its remaining existence in complete isolation, regret, and eternal peril.
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