I’m staring at the sun as I walk on Halstead towards the Northside. Tomorrow, I will begin my persecution of the Donahue family. But then I ask myself, should anyone be spared in this inquisition? This storming of the castle. I go down the list. There’s the fat man, the chief of the whole operation. He who hands out the tasks in the morning and loot in the evening when weary workers return to Mecca for a measly shilling or two.

Then there are the sons of Donahue. All three of them playing touchy touchy and feely feely with the secretary; what I wouldn’t do to have an affair with her. Albeit a short one. A brief encounter on a dark night inside the cage where sins are committed on a daily basis.

The Irish brunette doesn’t know I exist. At least I didn’t think so until one day she looked at me from her desk with emerald eyes and caught me like a deer in headlights. She knew I lusted for her. Her long body and freckled skin. My fair Mary would be spared; spending the rest of her days following me till my crucifixion. And then, when the rock is removed, she’d be there waiting for my return.

Hold on, Mary. I’m coming for your rescue. This short time on earth should be enjoyed. Let us stop toiling and stroll by the sea, hand in hand, and make love in the dunes.

My father will be here soon. He’s keeping an eye on us. Remember,  you’re a child of his as well. You will always be safe from the wrath of God. While the Donahues should pray for their souls every night.

What wickedness they’ve brought to the common man. Hurting those who can’t help themselves. My sword is drawn. No mercy for them. For they have not lived a life of love. Only sin. The torcher of so many. The riches of so few.