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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The would-be nun She was a strange-looking woman, tall and very white in a country with plenty of sun, she also adored wine. She often told me after sex, her first choice in life was to become a nun, but when she went to bed with her first husband, she lost this choice, yet the dream was still on her mind. One day when we were driving in the countryside, we came upon a small village church, the door was closed but we found a side door open. The church had a nice interior with lots of gilded angels and green tapestry, she lit a candle and said her prayers then kissed me hungrily. By the alter we made love, she had sex with something else in her head, I was just the instrument to her intense obeying of her inner lover. When driving back home, she was reserved and didn’t say anything something, weighty occupied her mind; no, she would let me enter her house. Later she rang and called off our relationship she had her faith, and God had forgiven her ultimate sin. Presumably, the sex in the church. A year later, I met her at the supermarket’s parking a lot, she wore a long skirt reaching to her ankle and a blouse covering her arms, and a big silver cross I assumed she had bought it at a trinket store. In her mind, she had her wish she was now a nun. With great dignity, she walked to her car, a white Datsun, when she bent to open the door, her legs buckled, she fell to the ground. She was so very, very drunk.
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