She could have been my grandmother—well, not mine, but someone’s, wrapped in rags. I gave her a dollar and she smiled and said, God bless you.
I said, God bless you too, ma’am, and felt good about changing the world for the better.
The old woman rose to her feet and growled at me, If you’ve got God’s ear, ask him why your face smells like a dick.
Two questions occurred simultaneously. How do I ask for my dollar back? And, what if my face did smell like a dick? Had someone maybe molested me in my sleep?
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