PIG PEN PERFUME

PIG PEN PERFUME

“Dad.  We’ve driven all morning.  Let’s stop and get some lunch.  Stop at the next exit and see if there’s a diner.  Look.  There’s a nice sandwich deli.  Just pull in.”

“O.K.  Looks nice enough.  You ever been here before?  Close to where you mentioned …never mind?”

“No – and yes.  Let’s just go in and sit down and order.  I’m starving!”

“Agh!  Did you smell that awful odor in the parking lot?  Must be some hog farms nearby?!  I don’t understand how these folks can live around here.”

“Yeah.  I smelled it.  Brought back some bad memories.  Let’s just order.  Hand me a menu, please, Dad.”

“Hmm.  Let’s see.  I think I’ll have a sweet tea, and a Reuben – beef brisket, kraut, dressing, on kosher rye!  What about you?”

“Dad.  I know better.  But, I’m thinking BLT … or ham-and-cheese?!”

“Levi!  Oy vey!  What’s “goiim” on under your yamaka?  What’s gotten into you?”

“Very funny.  Sorry, Papa.  You know … some of these folks actually enjoy that smell?!  It’s good to be home.  Ma’am, I’ll have the lamb chop special!”

(moral – the pull of pungent pork poop is powerful, persistent, pernicious.)

2 Peter 2 (NIV)

¹⁹ They promise them freedom, while they themselves are slaves of depravity—for “people are slaves to whatever has mastered them.” ²⁰ If they have escaped the corruption of the world by knowing our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and are again entangled in it and are overcome, they are worse off at the end than they were at the beginning. ²¹ It would have been better for them not to have known the way of righteousness, than to have known it and then to turn their backs on the sacred command that was passed on to them. ²² Of them the proverbs are true: “A dog returns to its vomit,” and, “A sow that is washed returns to her wallowing in the mud.”

SOUNDS IN THE SHADOWS

SOUNDS IN THE SHADOWS

Walking down the path, but pausing to inspect a distracting noise coming from somewhere in the darkness, some distance to the side, I heard a low, guttural growl.  But, somehow it also sounded softly feminine and alluring.

                In that moment, when I should have run, I hesitated, hearing, it seemed, my name called.  I spun around to locate the voice.  But, at the same time, my back stung from the razor cuts across my shoulder.  It was on me, snapping and snarling!   In confusion, I turned to see a beautiful smile; and, I impulsively kissed her, only to have my face gnawed off!  Nearly blind, I stumbled, with help from somewhere, back onto the path.  The fiend retreated into the darkness, snarling and pacing menacingly.

                I rolled over, startled awake, in a cold sweat.  Nightmare?  Insight?  Vision?  Warning?  I sometimes hear the howls, eerie and disconcerting, when the night train passes behind my place, its whistle awakening the pack.  But, I believe the other fiends are MORE real.  And, they are not warm-blooded.  I sometimes feel their cold breath.  And it is foul.

                The sounds in the shadows make me edgy.  But, who pulled me back onto the path?!  That question keeps me going.