Forgive me, Father, for I—/ Oh, it’s you again!/ (Gasp!) You remember me, Father?/ How could I not? You’re the one who couldn’t stop/ Saying winter’s four-letter word!
If for a second Óscar Romero had glanced through the open doors of the chapel, would he have seen the young man taking aim? Would he have been afraid? Would he have been tempted to flee?