Roman Alphabet – Reading O for One’s True Nature

Grant Wilkins



We tried to contain the mad, unsightly child they caught listening to the deflated noises in the chapel. We knew the drill, and wanted to make a quick escape.

You threw Sister Marie-de-Fatime into the hole full of glacial water from the other side of the river. She’s the one who thought anything recognizable as free will, independent being or entertainment to be a disgusting and blasphemous feeding off of the earth and Baby Jesus.

A lazy peasant woman directed me towards this venture into the unknown. She knew I would sometimes open the window, and thought the butterflies were overrated. We both agreed on that.

I could always hear the Sister’s footsteps approaching to wake up her husband, and so could now pass my pointless insecurities onto the others in our leaky boat. After all, one had to follow one’s true nature.

The wild grass growing out to infinity certainly tempered one’s anxieties. Also, the daily spankings would sometimes serve to drive out thoughts of pretty flowers, and of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, while the solitude and fear of the chiming bells would always make me late for court.



Grant Wilkins is a printer, small press publisher and occasional poet from Ottawa whose writing has been published on Bywords.ca, by phafours press and in BafterC magazine. He has degrees in History & Classical Civilization and in English, and he likes ink, metal, paper, letters, sounds and words, and combinations thereof.