kabocha mimic

“We’re going to need some of this,” she said, unscrewing the cap. “Lubrication,” she said with a smile, seeing the confused look on my face. She poured a generous handful of oil and slathered it onto my shaft and my balls. She spied the label as she set the bottle down. “Hmm…extra virgin. That’s the only thing in this house tonight that is virgin anything.” I laughed nervously. I remember now my clueless mom never figured out why her bottle of olive oil kept appearing in my bathroom.

He’d already showered so his short messy hair had been combed back and was still damp. He was wearing his slacks and belt, but no button up shirt on yet. He liked to wait until his hair was a bit drier before he put it on. As he pulled cups and the coffee tin from the cupboards above, she couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles shifted on his back, the sparse long hairs that sprouted from his back and shoulders. He only got to the gyms on the weekends, but he walked around job sights a lot for his work, so he had a nice balance between muscle and leanness. Before last night she wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but now she sat there with her mouth open, staring like a dead fish.

The second error is taking silence for an answer. When you pray to God and get only silence, that is neither a yes nor a no. It is simply the absence of a response. Whether or not God has heard your prayers is impossible to know, so however you interpret the silence, it is due to your own feelings. If you do something wrong and God doesn’t punish you, does that mean your actions are condoned or forgiven? How could you possibly know if God doesn’t explicitly tell you? God hasn’t deemed you unworthy; you deemed yourself unworthy. Do not try to find meaning in silence. All you hear is your own conscience.”