Guilt.  It’s the guilt that gets me, he said. Stealing, lying, cheating, conning people. These sins. This is what keeps me up at night, he lit a cigarette. I’ve never been square. Forthright. Ducking and dodging. That’s what I do. And it’s on my mind constantly. Never ends. Crimes committed years ago are still haunting me, he took a drink of scotch.

Have you confessed these sins? To a priest? Or a counselor of some kind? he asked.

No. I keep it to myself. 

Probably best. You say sins. How bad could they be? These crimes you’ve committed. Have you ever killed anyone? he swerved back and forth, side to side in his chair.

No.

Are you sure of that?

Yes. My crimes involve theft, stealing, lying to people to get ahead.

Yes.

And what has it got me?

What?

Nothing. It was all for nothing.

Do you give to people?

The poor? When I can.

You make that sacrifice?

Yes.

The past is the past. Have you tried to right your wrongs?

Yes. I guess.

And you give to those down on their luck?

I do.

Life is over in the blink of an eye. You can only do so much. Forgive yourself.  Soon, it will be over.

That’s what I’m scared of .