Mary Christof, Queen of Hearts

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Addictive Magic/CliffsNotes/Dictating In Triplicate

So, with a heavy sigh and colored-dye-infused sparkling water, with what could pass for boredom running through my mind as I sat with an inkwell, a piece of paper, and a quill.

“What is this? Harry Potter? I could type the notes, or put them off for yet another month...wait until Halloween, maybe.”

The night was young. By young, I meant panicking-about-the end-of-the-world-and-not-getting-anything-close-to- accomplished young. I was glaring around the room, a sarcastic ball of panic glancing at St. Rita. “If that was you influencing the tarot card, thanks...I definitely need it this week.”

Cracking my knuckles, I smiled a little before attempting focus.

“Lessee--aside from the obvious, she apparently had a sister...a sister? Is this the “He had a brother” thing all over again? Never mind...hmmm, she’s also related to Elizabeth, wife of Cleophas. Good to know,”

Parts of me wondered why I bothered to snark, but I had considered my options: if I were to have one cardinal sin in my life to drag with me, it’d have to be my overbearing snarkiness.

“--and now, and now, and gentlemen and now, I invite you to look upon me, look upon me and see her shining face and lips speaking. If not, well, all right.

ANYWAY, THERE CAME A DECREE OF A ROMAN CENSUS, AS OF WHICH YOU ALREADY KNOW! She had continued in her purifying for the conclusion of 40 days for the atonement of her sins and rushed posthaste to the city of the new baby’s birth.”

This was getting intense already--who was I talking to? The window? Something had me pumped to write about this, and I thought I’d already driven “Her Grace” away from me.

“This is not a hill I’d like to die on, I mean, the cat doesn’t even want to listen to me anymore. I would rather die on the “horribly executed sarcasm” hill, or even the misanthrope hill, but not the “somebody claiming to be Mary is talking to me” hill. Anything but this...please? I’m not ready to die with sacrilege! But, okay, fine. I will finish my research and this Marian least until I can muster to go to a church. Until then, just call me a glutton for punishment, I suppose.”

So, noting the three a.m. time, I sighed, looked around, and decided to pick up my research in the morning. Or afternoon.

“St. Michael the Archangel,
defend us in battle.
Be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the Devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray,
and do thou,
O Prince of the heavenly hosts,
by the power of God,
thrust into hell Satan,
and all the evil spirits,
who prowl about the world

seeking the ruin of souls. Amen...”

-Prayer to St. Michael

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