The cops would be there in seconds. This nigga was all up in this church counting the devil’s blessings. Lord have mercy on his soul, cause the devil wouldn’t. It seemed like he was on the devil’s mission, all up in this church with a weapon on him.
What was the play? He had to make it fast, the law was on his ass. Grab the deacon? He didn’t want to, but he would.
Oh Lord forgive me. He couldn’t fall victim to the cops, his lifelong foe. He was an outlaw, he lived on a tight rope. The law cheated, so he cheated.
Grab the reverend. He didn’t want to, but he would. Throw the slammer to him, then tell him to pray for him before he ushered him out of the church with the semiautomatic to his back. Lord please, overlook his foul ways, his sins weren’t matching what was in his soul. He was a good nigga, but played the bad nigga’s role.
Yeah, he thought. He would put some money in the offering from the bag. It was heavy, but he’ll never let it go. He was taking it to Switzerland or the Netherlands.
The choir was blowing a hymn. All of the parishioners in the pews were staring at him. They didn’t know, but he was the devil’s vessel. He was playing it cool in the church, with his hood on and head bowed… He was praying for himself, walking down the aisle of the church with a weapon on him.
The devil was in his ear, and this nigga was listening carefully. He was trying to exit carefully. Grab the pastor, walk him out of this church? He didn’t want to, but he would. Shouting for the Lord, give the minister the holy ghost. He just needed to make it out of the exit before the police arrived. They would be there in seconds.
They were on his ass. If they ran in this church… shit would get hectic. It would fuck up the last chance he had with the Lord and seal the deal with the devil. Or he could just make it out the exit. He was clutching the weapon in his sleeve, in this church.
All the shepherds on the pulpit watched him. They didn’t know, but he needed a miracle. Bullets were getting low, he bust too many cops so he ran out of ammo. He was up on them, thirty to not—nothing. The cops couldn’t touch him!
He dug his hand in the bag and dropped a handful of diamonds and cash into the offering. Hood on, head bowed, praying, Lord please accept the offering. He left out of the church through the exit.
The Lord blessed him. The keys were in a car, left in the ignition. He pulled out slowly, Lord had mercy!
Kory McClary's Blog 