From my first novel (22 years ago!):
Easter. My favorite holiday. A deeply philosophical time of the year when I ponder what on earth a bunny rabbit has to do with eggs and why, if they beat you, spit on you, and nail you to a cross, . . .
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you’d want to call that particular Friday a Good Friday? If that happened to me, I’d call it The Worst Friday Of My Life. But that’s why Jesus is The Redeemer and I’m just another nobody.
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