Sorry Momma

When I was a little girl, my momma used to tell me: “Baby, be careful when you pray. The devil can hear your prayers too. He doesn’t always come with pitchforks and hellfire. Sometimes he comes dressed up like everything you wanted.”

I always promised her I’d be careful until the day I met the devil as a young woman. Until he came strolling in looking like that, smelling like that, talking like that.

And I said: “Sorry, momma, but I think I’d take him over an angel any day.”


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