(I wrote most of this piece five years ago, but I think it bears repeating. Our contemporary notion of Valentine’s Day’s origin has been sanitized to accommodate our conception of romantic love. Maybe this is a good idea. You be the judge.)
This shall be my final journal entry.
It is early March in the Year of Our Lord 270. The Church is in its youth, but I have faith that it will grow in strength and scope. It shall be my salvation.
There is a slight chill in the air as the axeman takes his practice swings on the wooden block. He is a muscular man, and he strikes with power and accuracy. For that, I am thankful. The beheading will be quick and painless, and I shall pass on to heaven in peaceful ascendancy...