Last Rites

Thom Satterlee A door opens. Wyclif climbs the stairs and stands at the bedside of the dying. He says a prayer, places the host on a tongue, and makes the sign of the cross before leaving. He does the same at another house on the same street, then later at a house one street over. At night when he walks homes he carries the sour smell of their sickness. No matter where he hangs his cloak, the last breaths of the dying come off of it and enter his dreams, turning everything to rot. When he wakes he can only remembers a force that made him hold a piece of straw in one hand and bless it with the other. ~~~~~ From Burning Wycliff, copyright 2006 Thom Satterlee: reprinted with permission from Texas Tech University Press. ~~~~~ Next: Habitus