pastor laughs and says anytime is a good time.

he’s on a fishing boat with friends so i speak quickly, apologizing for my silence, leaving space for him to make his request, that i might finally express the rules of our engagement.

when he speaks his words don’t match his tone, and i find myself stuck between sound and interpretation. it’s reminiscent of places visited been before where skin crawls and hair raises just enough to jar one from the warmth of ruminating thoughts into the cold plunge of anxiety.

i want to believe him but the question of which god he’s working for writes itself across my ears and they turn red. it dawns on me there’s silence and he’s waiting for a response to the same request he’s called about every week for the last six months.

surely time is not the obstacle.

i suggest an in-person meeting and since he doesn’t say yes or no, i’m reminded of another place i hate visiting. deep down i wish he’d leave me alone, but again, i’m not sure which god he’s working for, so saying yes seems to be the best approach for now.