Beautiful Sinner

by Sara Cate

With a twitch in his eye that even I can spot from here, he flicks his hand toward the pews as if to tell me to sit, and had he not done that, I would have left. Instead, I walk quietly to the back row and rest against the hardwood. You’d really think after a thousand years of Christianity, they’d accommodate their believers a little better with softer seats.

With a tone of resignation, I lean back and shake my head. “It’s a man’s job.” Her smile fades and she glares at me with the fire of the sun, her pouty lips hanging open. “A man’s job?” she shrieks. “What? Do you steer the lawn mower with your dick?”

“What’s here?” asks a deep voice from behind me. Spinning around, I rest my back against the lobby counter and stare into the emerald eyes of Father Fuckface, in his full black outfit with the white collar. Even the middle of summer is pretty temperate here, but still, he must be hot in all that black. He keeps his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, but I still wonder how it must feel under those thick black pants.