98.

Santiago, stained glass silhouette, knows everything.

This is better than ordinary omniscience. This, gutted and stripped to the dirty, the pithy, the ten o'clock highlights reel. He tends bar, Bloody Hail Marys, and, unlike God, remembers everything.

You tell him your past, he’ll tell you your future.

(In the name of the Father, naturally.)

“Tell me I’m saved.”

“Tell me your sins.”

“This will give you nightmares.”

(…and of the Son.)

“It’s been about an hour since my last confession.”

(…and of the Holy Ghost.)

“I’m dead, you know.”

“I know.”

The Ghost smiles.

“Of course you do.”