Pope Francis Memoir Audiobook Novels & Stories

Pope, dressed in nondescript work clothes, felt every eye on him as he entered. Carlo Rossi was at a back booth, a grizzled man in his sixties with a face like weathered driftwood and eyes that missed nothing. Two hulking longshoremen flanked him. Pope approached, his throat tight. “I’m looking for Carlo. I have a delivery from… the Snow Queen.” Rossi’s eyes narrowed. He gestured for Pope to sit. One of the bodyguards patted him down roughly, finding the USB drive.

The Pope walked slowly around the chamber, nodding at the ancient candles and the marble platform where I had just been screaming and squirting. Father Ren and Father Elias stood side by side, looking perfectly calm in their cassocks, like they hadn’t been competing over my holes minutes earlier. One of the MILF nuns glanced toward my hiding spot, her eyes dark, but I held my breath, terrified she could smell the thick scent of sex and oil on me. I saw one of them also jiggle sister Marg's tits. This confirmed it. These nuns are motherfuckers! The Pope spoke in a deep, rich voice. “This place carries strong spiritual hunger. I sense it. I will return tomorrow for more private blessings with

They did the same. "During my stay on this earth, I've witnessed bad and evil, I've seen good, and I've witnessed love. I've seen my loved ones come and go. And I'm not a religious man, instead I'm a sinner, but I don't know why God has kept me till this day — maybe to witness something, something like my grandkids' wedding, or seeing my great-grandchildren," he said. Francesca shared a knowing glance with Vincenzo. They knew what he was about to do.

How did he know what they were talking about, if he wasn’t present? “And he will be delighted to meet you, buddy,” Di Berardino said, unable to hide his emotion and with a strange sensation in his body that began as soon as he looked at him, which made him feel good. When he met with the Pope to hire him, he conveyed all his expectations regarding the child, also managing to infect him with his overflowing enthusiasm and hopes for a better world from the hand of the little one. It was not difficult to be captivated by the Pope’s charisma and commune with his ideals.

I was just wondering if he could see or hear me when he turned around in glacial fashion. “You’re here,” is what it sounded like, but very slowly so the words were stretched and hard to make out. It occurred to me that maybe things didn’t stop when I was in the adjacent world, they just slowed down a lot. And the Pope was in fact moving incredibly fast. “You’ll have to talk more quickly,” I said. “I can’t understand you.” “Did you see them?” It was better, but I was still guessing what he was saying. Longer sentences would be impossible to understand.

I knew that they would do whatever they could to undo my deeds, from slandering my name to sending assassins. This realization led me to begin these memoirs. I decided that this was the best way to present my version of the truth, and to inspire others to rebel against the Black Vatican. I can only anticipate what will happen following this book’s release, but here is what I hope: the Cardinals will ban this volume wherever they rule, and this will only make more people want to read it. Each copy will travel through the black market, passing from one hand to the next, read in secret by mortals and immortals alike. Slowly but surely, whispers of rebellion will spread, until all unite to overt

, Don Vito said with sarcastic sadness. “You could start now”, Leonardo suggested. “If only it were that easy. You have to get to work. Those books”, he said and pointed to the high heap of books on his desk, “are your responsibility for the day. You must learn about saints, basic prayers and biblical stories to impress him in front of everyone. He might not be Pope material but he has to uphold the church in front of the others”, Don Vito finished. Leonardo could feel the earth beneath him sway.

It reminded Teddy of the over-the-top hairstyles of some 1980s popstars. ‘I come here to bless this gathering!’ he boomed. ‘And bless you, Teddy, Teddy Theodore, gift of God, that your soul shall be welcome in the everlasting! God, as I wrote in my book, Love Me, Love My Fractured Spirit, available at all good bookstores, is me, and God, is you, together, there is nothing, we cannot do.’ Poor Teddy had tears building in his eyes, but they were tears of mirth, as he remembered that whatever it was that Gorham had become, it was not boring.

POV Thea The first book he handed me looked very old, the pages were mismatched and you could tell it had been repaired in one way or another several times. “This is Francis’s journal, he wrote down everything he remembers happening. He started right after he built the main building here. To keep record of what happened before. It only seemed right considering Alabaster had begun writing his own version of how it all started.” He said with a sort. “Was he there?” I asked.

I had for once in my life no planning I had to go by, no plans or things to do or any expectations and I felt relaxed to have nothing to do but read a book in a hot bath. Once I was done taking a bath and a quarter of my book further I decided it was time to rinse myself off, I started to get hungry, which my mother would love, and figured it should be about time to maybe go downtown, get myself some new clothes and new books from the money I had saved and was still in the envelope I was given along with my train ticket.