The little black guy was in the living room, kneeling on the floor as if in prayer. Papers were on the floor before him. A Bible was before him, too. He was intent upon what he was doing.
“Peace, god!” the youth who had entered the room said, watching the little black guy on the floor.
The little black guy handed the youth a black school notebook. He opened the book and read the neat handwriting. After half an hour he put the book down, sweat forming on his brow, his lips moving nervously, and said:
“Yeah,”” the little black guy said; “it’s just a sacrifice.”
“But why kill a white man?”
“’Cause that’s the only way a Black Man can become god!” the little black guy screamed.