Pretty Darn Hot

Mass was hot, not that she minded the heat all that much. She enjoyed her afternoon walks in the cemetery no matter how hot it was. I doubt if the company she was with cared that much either.The air conditioning went out unexpectedly and there was little Fr. Emery could do to cool the situation. Bratty children only became more bratty, overweight men got a taste of what’s to come and women with their cosmetic purse mirrors began seeing their faces melt before their eyes.She smiled an inward smile, hoping God wouldn’t notice her taking pleasure from others troubles. She really never wished anything bad to happen to anyone, even herself. There are enough “troubles” in this old world she thought, why wish for any more.When mass was finished she nervously stood to leave. Fr Emery smiled her way, making her even more nervous. Was he smiling at her? Possibly, maybe, oh, of course not! She had helped out at the latest church rummage sale and Fr.Emery was good at remembering such things. Maybe he was smiling at her.On her drive home she stopped for groceries. The twelve-pack was good and cold as she placed it in her cart. She picked out a few more staples to fill her cart less it appear she had only gone in for beer. She rarely shopped for groceries just after mass but her beer supply had run out and after all, it was pretty darn hot.When she got home she was feeling almost giddy for reasons that eluded her. She decided that the beer could wait until after she had watered her flowers. Most of her flowers were in pots but there was one that grew out back that she took great care in. She even named it, “Fr. Emery”. A peculiar name for a yucca plant or any plant for that matter but who am I to judge. Had you not read it here first I seriously doubt that the whereabouts of “Fr Emery” with his long firm stalk would have ever been known.With her chores done it was now time to reward herself with a cold beer. As she sipped her beer and watched the neighbor play fetch with his dog she was soon cracking the tab back on another, and yet another. But who’s keeping tabs, besides it was pretty darn hot.She decided to go out and check on “Fr Emery”. He was drooping just a bit, maybe from the heat. She gently reached out and put her hand around the semi-limp stalk, gripping it tight. It felt, pretty darn hot. She quickly removed her hand out of fear of what the neighbors might think. Then again, as she sipped on her beer, who cares what the neighbors might think.What she did care about is what Fr. Emery might think should she ever decide to make her confession to him. Would her carnal lapse of less than pure thoughts alter his opinion of her?One can only hope that he never asks for the details

Pretty Darn Hot

Prismcrow

Joined October 2008

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