Church

I put myself in the middle of the hugging,
 reaching, touching, and the patting of little old
 ladies whose vertebrae are currently collapsing.
 Verna is shorter today without her matching hat,
 but still completely color-coded in violet.  She clips 
 her way to the altar, and bumps me. I don't know why,
 but I reach my arm out and touch her left shoulder
 as if to say, you touched me Verna. And after I do
 she turns around to see who it is touching her.
 You can't bump anyone in church and get away with it
 is sort of what I am thinking, although I didn't mind it,
 or my plumber touching the small of my back today. 
 I remember that now. And the fact that I'll probably never 
 see him again because he's moving to Maine. After a  firm
 handshake & a wink he says, "It's my final resting place."

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8 thoughts on “Church

  1. I’ve gotten to dislike crowds… I suppose though it is better to bump into someone you do know.
    Once while (actually I think it may have been my honeymoon – over thirty odd years ago) I was separated from my hubby and thought the gent next to me was him as I slipped my arm through his…
    A tad embarrassing that 😉

    Thanks for visiting my post on the prompt. We ended up watching professional golf as we rested.
    We do laugh often – cheers. ~Jules

  2. The intimacy of a church family is noteworthy. You see people every week, and feel a kinship, but may only know tangential details about them. Sometimes, a casual remark can have profound implications. I like how you captured these emotions.

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