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For years, my soul has been heavy with guilt and fear. For countless nights, I have stayed

dreamless, questioning whether my transgression could ever be forgiven. I have spoken to the

village priest, I have kneeled down in the confessional, yet, whenever the time for

me to pass forgiveness from God comes. I cannot speak. I cannot verbalize the nature of

my sin. So instead, I come here, to this corner of the world made of wire and screens.

Perhaps by sharing my story with the faceless choir of the internet, I will be able to find

some amount of respite. I sincerely hope that by confessing to the masses, I will be

able to rid myself of some of the guilt. But I know that even if I forgive myself for

what I have done, the fear of what I have brought into the world will never let me leave.

I have stolen a sheep from the Baba Yaga, and I have been punished accordingly.

For most of my adult life, I was employed as a construction worker in Austria. The pay

was better than anything I could get back in the village. Work came in manageable burst,

and during the winters, I could rest back in eastern Slovakia with my wife. We were

trying for a child, we were hopeful for the future. One, misplaced steel beam, skew it

all of that. After the surgeries and after the recuperation, I could work, but no construction

would hire a cripple. There were our jobs around the village, and my wife had taken to

sell and wallen hats on the internet, but most folk in rural Slovakia, are handy with

a hammer, and one cannot feed a family with hats. Our savings got us through the first

winter, and the charity of our neighbours made sure we never went hungry. But time was

running out. A second winter approached, and our neighbours' graces wasn't infinite.

...