Screwtape is alive and well
and living in my head
instead of writing letters to Dear Wormwood
is composing letters to my soul:
...
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An honest reflection... As per the last stanza/line: consider, then, going to the world that God knows (and created) ... He is the ultimate in what is visible and what is not. A great write, this...
I was in the play Dear Wormwood. I think the character I played was Slumtrumpet, does that sound right?