I saw him. He saw me.
Dreaded Security.

At the mall.


“Are you still handing out those Million-dollar bill Gospel tracts? You know that you are not supposed to do that,” 19-year-old Ryan stated flatly, his badge glistening in the setting sun.

“Yes, I am,” I admitted, “and I will stop. BUT! I will be using Illusion Tracts instead.” I pulled out two from my shirt pocket.
“I can still have conversations with people using these! And I promise I won’t give them to anybody!”

“Well… the other security guards may not like it.” Ryan sounded apprehensive.

“There is still no law against my having conversations with people…” I reminded. I smiled, then walked away. Ryan kept his well-trained eye on me until I was out of sight.

Two weeks later, Ryan spotted me walking down the main aisle. I saw him before he spotted me. He knew that I knew that he knew why I was there: to seek and to save that which is lost—and I was using the verboten Million Dollar Bill Gospel Tract!

I averted my eyes. He did, too, and kept walking.


(Eyeball photo from Illusion Tracts from

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