copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Piety by Proximity
My dad believed in piety by proximity. His nightstand was a stack of Bibles. My desk lamp was holy, he told me.
“It’ll keep you safe from demons,” he said.
“What’s a demon?”
“It’s like a cross between a deer and a lemon, I think.”
One day, I went on a field trip to the cathedral and saw a row of lamps like mine, one missing.
“Did you steal my lamp?” I asked him later.
“They have five more,” he protested.
“What about the eighth commandment?”
“I didn’t covet it; I just took it.”
I suggested he read his nightstand.
The Green-Walled Tower 