He asked me if I could go a month without sugar.
I hadn’t considered that he wasn’t referring to the pint of ice cream I’d eaten by myself when I told him yes.
The next morning, I reached up for a kiss, and he pushed me away. “Day one,” he said.
By Day 7, I was making love to my body-sized pillow.
On Day 15, he told me prayer could help. “It’ll teach you how to survive on every word that comes from the mouth of God.”
“But I thought the test was to survive without sex.”
He still questions if I’m really religious.
I made it all the way to Day 29 without touching him, though I touched myself a few times–Lord, forgive me.
On the eve of Day 30, I parked my car in his driveway with the Bible in my lap, waited until the clock struck midnight, then knocked on his door and demanded, “Give me some sugar.”
Challenge: Monday’s One-Minute Fiction (#1MinFiction)
Objective: Think up or write a complete story in one minute or less