Chucks and the Sand

            Then my thoughts kinda drifted to those Sundays in the Island when all the recruits became Catholic, because Catholic mass was by far the longest church service, and the only time we got away from the DIs.

            I loved Catholic mass, especially when the priest on duty was this guy Father Leary. He was an awesome storyteller. The problem was I always drifted into sleep while he talked, because that’s what happens in the Island when you sit down—you have a lot of like, backed up deprivation. This one time he started telling us about Jonah and how he got swallowed by a whale. I was digging the story but kept bobbing for cock (that is like, nodding off from sleepiness), so I couldn’t really follow his meaning. Then at the end of the story he told us like, the moral of the book of Jonah, which had to do with pacifism somehow. I think he said Jonah came from present day Iraq.

            I remember Father Leary going like, “So you see, war doesn’t need to happen. Even when it’s about to happen, when all the forces are in place, it still doesn’t need or have to happen.”

            But that statement meant little because I couldn’t follow the Padre from sleepiness. I’ve read the book of Jonah a bunch of times since the Island, and I still don’t get it.