Excerpt from
"The Hennessy Family Rosary"
by Eleanor Fuller

Sunday, July 29th, 1979. St. Patrick’s Ward, Guelph, Ontario, Canada.


Creed


We believe in the Creator's dissembling, almost pagan, sense of humour. Beginning with the Italian priest’s dark l’s and black cassock askew on a wire hanger sheathed in white paper. Across the paper, red and green cursive announcing the dry cleaner’s trade name and objective: Puro. Not much in keeping with what came next. Antique light filtered through a mottled green-glass transom, giving the rectory parlour and its unforgiving furniture a lonely cast. That priest’s robe off kilter pointed at unholier communions.

Puro. We believe in the Creator’s almighty howl and rogue mischief. We pray to the One who makes by undoing. Buttons, shorts, bodies, family.


Our Father


Dad away again. Peru this time, tower installations. He jaunts about earning our daily bread but leaving Siobhán holding the bag. In this case Lou. And Mum off do-gooding all day like there’s nothing to be done but trespass at home. Will he still bring Siobhán a treat if he finds out she lipped Mum about Our Lady Margaret of the Collection Plate lording her privileges? Why should Margaret get to drink soda anyway? A tuft of flamingo plumes for Siobhán’s collection would be grand. Will Dad ever get back?

 

 

 

2023's Far Horizons Award for Short Fiction winner featured in The Malahat Review's fall issue #224