In those days, after God scourged their enemies, the holders of the land and keepers of older scrolls, after those made in His image dashed soft child-brains against dusty rocks and bathed triumphant feet in still-warm blood and tears, Little Mikey raised his hand in Picture Class and setting down his crayon, asked: “Excuse me, Mr. Hawley, does this mean it’s okay to kill? ‘Cause it says ‘Do Not Kill’ somewhere.” To which the teacher replied, smiling down at seven-year-old Mikey: “Son, it’s always okay to kill. We kill cows, don’t we? It’s murder you got to watch out for. And you can’t murder an animal.”
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