At times I wonder if we run more from Justice or Mercy. Mercy seems the more terrible at times, the threat of forgiveness hotter than the fires of Hell, for love is also a flame. Those outside the kingdom, remember, have chattering teeth. Hell’s heart is cold; there’s a sort of numbness there, I reckon, a promise of oblivion that never quite comes. No, there is pain, I think, in this life, for the righteous, and purgatory I suppose before we enter paradise. I will happily bow, even crawl, past the pearly gates, and beg for mercy at mercy’s seat.
Mercy
Tale Told 