Naked in the Public Square
Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae Gordon MacRae Fr. Gordon J. MacRae

Naked in the Public Square

. . . As I was led into the lobby with all my prison hardware clinking and the two armed guards at my sides, I felt the cold stares of dozens of wary eyes upon me. There had been a lot of idle chatter in the bustling hospital lobby, but everyone suddenly fell silent as I was led through their midst feeling … well … like a prisoner. I tried to stare straight ahead, a tactic that was not as easy as the silence quickly evolved into a torrent of whispers. I thought I even heard a gasp or two. . . . In the patient waiting area, an elderly woman smiled at me from across the room. I tried to smile back. I was trying hard not to look like Hannibal Lecter. . . .

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