It’s another Sunday ,

I never imagined this to be my life; waking up next to someone too beautiful to be just mine and going on to wake our children up to get ready for church. My life feels like a Hollywood sitcom. All three of our beautiful children, living with both biological parents, in high rise apartment buildings in the suburbs, attending expensive private schools. I close my eyes to be grateful and give thanks —and I’m ashamed once again.

If my wife wasn’t so distracted by the holy spirit she might have noticed the demon she laid with each night. I sit by the aisle, on the fifth row, next to my wife our kids are in Sunday school. The Pastor’s sermons are the same from two weeks ago. But closely familiar is the scent of sin —the fragrance of my infidelity. I started with the intention to fulfill a strong canal desire to ruin something good and that I have done. Lewd images, from the erotic skirmish we went at on Friday night while I was at a business meeting out of town, interrupt my peace of mind every time the usher walks by. It’s a small world and I might lose mine for wanting more.
CHIZIRI NEWMAN