Sorry, I
digress. We were talking about him, weren’t we?
You should have seen him. He was
handsome. He had curly blond hair that waved at the sky when the
wind blew. It was like his hair was shaking at heaven. He had the
eyes of an angel. They sparkled with laughter. Even when we were
protesting outside the clinic, the sparkle never
diminished.
You could hear the passion in his voice
every time one of those little whores walked by on their way into
that slaughterhouse. He wasn’t afraid to speak up about his
convictions. The way that he talked about life was
inspiring.
I was far too bashful to approach to
him directly. I don’t think that would have been very ladylike of
me. I didn’t want to seem too forward. I didn’t want him to think
about me as bold and brazen. Not like those whores that went to the
clinic. My stomach flipped over when our eyes met.
He smiled at me. Then he told me his
name, and I replied in kind. I knew he could tell how smitten I
was. It felt that way to me, at least. Thinking about that moment
still gives me chills of delight even to this day.
We began to court shortly after. He was
forever the perfect gentleman. He wasn’t like the other men that my
friends at church had dated. So many men act like they care about
you, but really they’re only interested in getting into your pants.
They were only interested in one thing. That’s what my friends told
me.
It felt different with him, though.
There was no heavy making out, and he never pressured me to kiss
him. Mostly our dates consisted of sitting under our favorite
Willow tree at the park while we discussed the book of the
Lord.
He was so knowledgeable. I wanted to
hear all of his thoughts and ideas when he talked about scripture.
One time I even told him he should write a book about the Bible. He
just laughed my suggestion off. He said that people who buy
religious fluff literature were rarely as open-minded as me. I
blushed when he said that.
He was what I imagined every woman
wanted in a man. I often wondered what kind of church he attended.
I bet it was big and fancy, and full of believers of the words of
the Lord.
Mamma always said that church was the best place to meet a
man. Mamma’s daddy had been a minister. He had given a sermon every
Wednesday and Sunday. He was strict and led his flock with an
unwavering faith. Mamma had grown up in this wave of believers. As
a child, she had helped clean the church, especially before
services. Cleanliness was next to Godliness her Daddy had always
told her.
When she became a teen, she helped in
the daycare center. She helped entertain the young children while
their parents attended church. Later, Mamma sang in the choir. She
sang like an angel proclaiming joy while in the presence of the
Lord.
That’s where she met my Daddy. They
sang together in the choir. Momma said he was the most handsome man
she had ever laid eyes on. She said Daddy was kind and had eyes
that always seemed to laugh. She said it were as if he had a
constant litany of jokes running in his head, and that only he
could hear the punchline.
They had dated for over a year before
Daddy proposed to Momma. Momma once told me that the whole time
they had dated that she dreamed of having their child. She said
that she often daydreamed of holding the child in church while her
Daddy delivered the sermon on Sunday. She knew that the child would
be a gift from God.
Then she had gotten pregnant, and I was
born. Momma told me that I had been a perfect child. Always smiling
and happy, and that I had a curiosity about everything.
I
think I had fallen for him before the summer was over. It felt like
I was head over heels. Your heart makes you do funny things when
you’re in love. I thought about him all the time. Each time I saw
him, it became harder to control my urges. I wanted to hold him. I
wanted to kiss him all over his body. I wanted to feel his hands
caressing my breasts.
We weren’t married, though. I was sure
Jesus
digress. We were talking about him, weren’t we?
You should have seen him. He was
handsome. He had curly blond hair that waved at the sky when the
wind blew. It was like his hair was shaking at heaven. He had the
eyes of an angel. They sparkled with laughter. Even when we were
protesting outside the clinic, the sparkle never
diminished.
You could hear the passion in his voice
every time one of those little whores walked by on their way into
that slaughterhouse. He wasn’t afraid to speak up about his
convictions. The way that he talked about life was
inspiring.
I was far too bashful to approach to
him directly. I don’t think that would have been very ladylike of
me. I didn’t want to seem too forward. I didn’t want him to think
about me as bold and brazen. Not like those whores that went to the
clinic. My stomach flipped over when our eyes met.
He smiled at me. Then he told me his
name, and I replied in kind. I knew he could tell how smitten I
was. It felt that way to me, at least. Thinking about that moment
still gives me chills of delight even to this day.
We began to court shortly after. He was
forever the perfect gentleman. He wasn’t like the other men that my
friends at church had dated. So many men act like they care about
you, but really they’re only interested in getting into your pants.
They were only interested in one thing. That’s what my friends told
me.
It felt different with him, though.
There was no heavy making out, and he never pressured me to kiss
him. Mostly our dates consisted of sitting under our favorite
Willow tree at the park while we discussed the book of the
Lord.
He was so knowledgeable. I wanted to
hear all of his thoughts and ideas when he talked about scripture.
One time I even told him he should write a book about the Bible. He
just laughed my suggestion off. He said that people who buy
religious fluff literature were rarely as open-minded as me. I
blushed when he said that.
He was what I imagined every woman
wanted in a man. I often wondered what kind of church he attended.
I bet it was big and fancy, and full of believers of the words of
the Lord.
Mamma always said that church was the best place to meet a
man. Mamma’s daddy had been a minister. He had given a sermon every
Wednesday and Sunday. He was strict and led his flock with an
unwavering faith. Mamma had grown up in this wave of believers. As
a child, she had helped clean the church, especially before
services. Cleanliness was next to Godliness her Daddy had always
told her.
When she became a teen, she helped in
the daycare center. She helped entertain the young children while
their parents attended church. Later, Mamma sang in the choir. She
sang like an angel proclaiming joy while in the presence of the
Lord.
That’s where she met my Daddy. They
sang together in the choir. Momma said he was the most handsome man
she had ever laid eyes on. She said Daddy was kind and had eyes
that always seemed to laugh. She said it were as if he had a
constant litany of jokes running in his head, and that only he
could hear the punchline.
They had dated for over a year before
Daddy proposed to Momma. Momma once told me that the whole time
they had dated that she dreamed of having their child. She said
that she often daydreamed of holding the child in church while her
Daddy delivered the sermon on Sunday. She knew that the child would
be a gift from God.
Then she had gotten pregnant, and I was
born. Momma told me that I had been a perfect child. Always smiling
and happy, and that I had a curiosity about everything.
I
think I had fallen for him before the summer was over. It felt like
I was head over heels. Your heart makes you do funny things when
you’re in love. I thought about him all the time. Each time I saw
him, it became harder to control my urges. I wanted to hold him. I
wanted to kiss him all over his body. I wanted to feel his hands
caressing my breasts.
We weren’t married, though. I was sure
Jesus
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