The Promise Rdemption
It wasn’t that I wanted to worship Jesus or eat fish on Fridays. What I coveted most was that Catholic girl swagger, a presence that stated, “I’m here, you gonna try to make somethin’ of it?” It was an essence that came through even in those nerdy plaid skirts and white blouses. Perhaps it was bred in Catholic girls’ schools, which, I suspected, were subversive hotbeds of female bonding, a sort of Western version of a harem. All those women together in a religion where sin could be easily neutralized by confession was fertile soil for my fantasies.