The Bus

Manny and I would take turns sneaking peeks at the girl’s panties as we rode the bus home from junior high. We felt blessed that she never crossed her legs while sitting. Sometimes I’d feel bad when I’d think about the Christian Character Award that I won at Covenant Christian School. I knew Manny never did. But the polkadots between her thighs made me forget about uniforms, chapel, and the sting of a wooden paddle. For a moment, a new god made part of me just a little bigger. It felt better than when I prayed, sung a hymn, or read the word of God. But it never lasted long because I would think about Matthew 5:28-29 and Ephesians 5:3. And as I was in bed late at night rubbing against my pillow, I would think of Onan who was killed by God because he spit his seed out on the ground.

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