The Players Prayer

With the silence of a windy night, rattling door handles and knocking belongings off dressers. Donnie rushed to his confession booth. Cut the lights, stripped then jumped in the shower.

With a jerking movement, he scrubbed off scents that spark intuition. Men have it too. It’s called fuck into forgiveness.

The steam and alcohol vapors transported him to his dream vacation. Face underneath a waterfall. The Lover- boy drown. Then he panicked, thinking about the mess left behind.

He began as all desperate do:

Lord, please help me divorce myself.

I AM SO TIRED of my shit.

Please Please Please get me through this. I promise to never do it again… IF YOU HELP.

Donnie heard a voice and became scared and weak.

He clutched his eyes tighter. Listening closer, the voice sounded eerily familiar.

He thought; is it my conscience telling me to stop ass-betting? A straight up loss, even if I win. Live men know only dead one’s gamble on skins.

The voice said, “Last chance to behave.” “This ain’t a self-improvement seminar, you don’t get to leave with a promise to change for better.

Donnie said “I know. But sinners knoweth not how to stop. It feels too good in the moment. And the only thing we can’t resist is temptation.

The voice said “wait a minute. I need you to elaborate.”

He opened his eyes and saw his wife.