"Father, I must confess something to you..."

I sat in the silence of the cathedral for hours contemplating how to go about my next move, waiting for everyone to just leave so I could lie, but I knew if I didn't it would only be a matter of time before I was found out. We take the Catholics, the priests, the virgins. It's our whole gig. Inflict the most pain by tempting the most devout. But this one was easier to get into. The fit was better, you could say. A dejected daughter of a devout family. A lesbian, go figure. Catholic in name only, as to not upset her folks.

She hadn't come out to them, had kept her head down and came to service every sunday. It's so much easier to climb into the bodies of those lacking faith. They fight less. No prayers to be saved and the like. But they're insistent I go to church. I must confess my sins because I'll burn for eternity if I don't. What a laugh. I sat around hoping I could lie about doing confessional but every blue hair in the pews knows exactly who I am. Don't they have somewhere to be? They've been here all day. A lie is no good if it can be easily disputed.

Needless to say, I needed everyone to think this one was an upstanding member of the church or I won't make a bang. Defeats the purpose.

Suddenly, above the soft jingling of rosaries and murmurs of prayer arose the sound of the massive doors creaking to life. The priest has come out of his cloister. "Shit" I groaned. Off to the booths he went, the little old lady in front of me turns to look at me as if she knew. No one else stood for confession and as I considered just booking it, the hag sharply whispered "Go on. I'll go after you."

Fuck. I grabbed my bag, filled with trinkets that made an awful clatter as it shifted. I gave away my position with keys and cell phone charms. What awful things these humans carry. As I stood I attempted to move my tail below my skirt, forgetting it's not even there anymore. Now I look like I've caressed my own rump and tried to cover for it by straightening my skirt. Why is everyone looking at me? Nosey vermin. I trotted off to the booth in a hurry, rattling and clanking the whole way. Why do I make so much noise?! Even the door to the confessional is so loud. Why are the chairs in here solid wood? Is this actually a torture chamber?

My thoughts interrupted by the sliding of a panel, the priest indicating he's ready to listen...