“Why does it even matter? Like you said, it’s an archaic tradition that doesn’t even mean anything anymore.” Fix sighed as he put down his beer on the counter. Slowly, his smile faded. He took a deep breath as he crossed the kitchen and placed his hands in the small of my back. He smelled like fresh cut grass, and the dusk, and the back field where Amy and I used to play when we were kids. He smelled like happiness. “I used to see really dark, heavy, fucked up shit every day of the week back when I worked for the church. But not on Saturdays. Saturdays were fucking beautiful. They made me not
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