Sister Laura walked briskly toward the house on Holly Lane.
The meeting had been scheduled for 6:00 p.m. and it was
now 5:57. She glanced down at her watch and looked at
the cover of the bible she was carrying. The post-it note read:
“Is any among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the
church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in
the name of the Lord: and the prayer of faith shall save him
that is sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he have
committed sins, it shall be forgiven him. (James 5:14-15)”
When she walked down the entryway and rang the doorbell, the
sky darkened and then there was silence. The door swung
open and she stepped inside as the disco lights bounced
along the latex painted walls of the foyer. The hissing sound of
a record player was heard, as the needle bounced across the vinyl like a drunkard had put on the next song. It was The Doors.
“You know that it would be untrue… You know that I would be
a liar… liar, liar, liar, liar, liar, liar, liar.”