Fire in the confessional welcome to my nighmare
here is a story I wrote called Fire in the confessional She walked into the church, red nails, red lips, red eyes, and a fire burning inside. Her black cloak hood was up and cloak was shut tight. She had a basket full of cookies on her arm. This isn't little red riding hood and she isn't going to see grammy. The new church Father was young and handsome. Think Dominik Bauer for versace! versace never dissapoints. She walked up to the confessional in her red stilettos. Wearing this...