Dear Reincarnation,

I'm Catholic (in the modern and intelligent sense) so I'm not supposed to believe in you. But secretly I want you to exist. I'm beginning to think you're the only real way justice can be served in this world.
I'd like to think that because of you a black slave woman from the American South could be reborn as Paris Hilton. I realize some people would view such a life sentence more as a punishment than a reward. But an entire existence dedicated to indulgence without a real care in the world? A slave woman would have earned that life ten times over.
I like the idea that a Taliban monster who throws acid in the faces of little girls as they walk to school could, in the next life, be transported back in time to be one of the many whose intestines Vlad the Impaler placed on a stick. That would be fair I think.
And I'd like to think that Hitler and his Nazi cronies really are spending eternity paying for their sins. But I don't trust Hell to do the job properly. So, if you haven't already dealt with them Reincarnation, I have a suggestion. I think they're a special case that deserves a unique solution. So I think they should spend eternity being placed temporarily into the lives of innocent victims while they suffer. So whenever a woman is being raped, or a child is being abused, or a man is being beaten to death, the evil Nazis can step in and absorb all the pain and agony of the moment. And they'll just keep doing that, hopping from one horrific experience to another, forever. That would be fair I think.
I realize these thoughts are a little bloodthirsty and not very ladylike of me. I guess that's what happens when you watch the news too much. You look at your little nephews and fear all the terrible things that could happen to them. You think of your friend who's a police officer and of all the horrible things he must be witnessing and worry about him to a degree that borders on paranoia. It's exhausting. Maybe in the next life Reincarnation you could make me a 1950's housewife who is blissfully unaware of the problems of the world. I wouldn't mind my biggest worries to be whether little Bobby gets the lead in the school play or if my soufflé rises properly. I realize this isn't very feminist of me. But I don't care.

Sincerely,
PC