God Soldier

“excuse me. excuse me. excuse me.” She lightly picked a the man’s shoulder with her whispers and her voluminous black and grey curls shook. She thought how rude, not to move for a poor old woman—rude! The man finally heard her faint request and moved aside so she could lower herself to the empty seat below. The train wheels squealed against the rails.

Too many times. What is this!? Too short, too much clothes off. And them—THEM! Her thoughts pounded as she peeked at the group of teenagers near her who were all touching and kissing—FORNICATING on the TRAIN! She couldn’t contain it anymore.

“NO!” she snapped, “Uh-uh! Stop IT! STOP right there right there I don’t need to see it—it’s too much too much of your business in my face! THAT’S RIGHT! Stop TOUCHING!”

The young fornicators finally understood their crime and at the next station they changed train cars.

How happy her father would be if he could see her victory against these types. How he’d hold up his strong sweaty arm clenching his fingers in a fist—his hands dark from the coal mines— and shake out one of his grand pronouncements: “there is no greater good than God and the soldiers of His army.” She smiled and at the following station she floated off the train, a few strands of undone hair falling behind her.