Forgive me father for I have sinned. It took me a while to come forward with this confession. But lately in visions of the night I am haunted by the specter of little hobgoblin men gnawing my heels. My screams are drenched in fear. I hoped to escape into wakefulness, but the fear grips me even there. You see- I have fantasies of you, the Bishop and I in a fetish like brawl. I am not of the Gommorish persuasion, but I think this all started when you kissed the Eucharist last communion. There was something about the way your lips formed, and the way in which the Bishop twitched when you kissed the Eucharist. I have never reacted to anyone this way before. Bit what I felt at that moment was so strong I had to empty my instrument, which I'm usually familiar with but which seemed to take on a life all its own that day. I even lost my hold on the way out-- my socks got wet.. I am sorry father, but I had to tell someone. But its the Bishop who scares me most. In one vision he was laying on the altar with a crucifix draped across his naked torso. Then he commanded me to touch it-- You were there. I was scared, but he threatened me with excommunication if I didn't, so I did. It was cold, flaccid, pale- gross! Then you kissed it. Just like you kissed the Eucharist at communion; Lips pouting red, wet at both ends, fleshy-poised, as if in endless cut and paste mode; The Bishop twitched again, as if in convulsions— Then I saw them: the hobgoblins, dancing in his eyes. I sat bolt upright! You stared at me, whilst doing the benediction- Is it the end?