into a spasm of pleasure. It takes me minute before my
knees let down. I breathe out a near squeal.
Father Williams lifts up. He wipes a bit of moisture
off his forehead, then moves his knee out from between
my legs he so clumsily placed it. When he stands up from
the bed, he takes a book from another priest and begins to
recite the Litany of the Saints.
In my fevered state, I’m not quite sure if a demon
has possessed me, like they say. They had all been so sure
of it and I did not really want Father Williams to leave. So
I entertained their silly assertions. Now, I truly cannot tell
if a demon has given me these thoughts or if they are my
own.
And I don’t care.
Jeremy Zentner has published short stories in science fiction and
supernatural fiction. He was the recipient of the Lois C. Bruner
award in nonfiction and lives in Central Illinois, USA.
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