Oh, you can’t hide from the Story. The Story finds us in cars, in hospitals, in our cousin’s bathroom and on air-o-planes. The Story finds us, traps us, advances until we’re scared in the corner with a knife in our hand, and then—and ONLY then—does it spread its glimmering grin upon us. Just pray it is the Story you love, and not a false, consumer god, for our Story lasts longer than plastic and pleases better than ANY cream.InvocationSacrament: ConfessionLiturgical Reading: “Rugged Boy Fancy Kit”Concluding PrayerHuff yon lungs gentle until our next Tuesday glory, lest they pop on the Story’s sinister wind.