How Great Thou Art

Her dark hair fell down her back in one continuous sheet down to her waist. She wore a thin white headband at her hairline. A gold cross necklace dangled down her cleavage. Around her wrist, she wore rosary beads, looped around several times to form a bracelet. Her grandmother had prayed daily with these rosary beads, but now Leah wore them to accent her bohemian style. Today, worn with a bikini top and a skirt that flowed down around her feet.

Between long draws, a cigarette carelessly hung between two fingers, swung at her side as she strolled along the empty sidewalk, the hot cement warm on her weathered feet. Leah had always despised wearing shoes, and her calloused feet showed the preference. This had started out as just a walk, but her walks inevitably ended on the front porch of her on-again-off-again boyfriend Jake. He was, of course, sitting on rickety chair, with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, already drunk at 11a.m., an occurrence that was not unusual.

“Hey, babe. Come over here and give Daddy some lovin,’” he slurred. Leah stood in front of him, hand on hip, not moving, not saying anything. She flicked the ashes off the end of the cigarette. She was tired of this. Everyday, the same thing, and she could pretty much guarantee he would be making out with someone else by the end of the night. Probably with the slut that just moved in next door. He seemed to have his eye on her. Leah knew how this would turn out, yet she always returned. She didn’t really have anyone better.

Reluctantly, she sat down on his lap. He tugged on her skirt, lifting it, until he could get his hand under the fabric. He rubbed up and down her leg, and this was only the beginning. Leah relaxed against him. She might as well enjoy it.  

Somewhere far in the distance, a church bell played How Great Thou Art to signal 12 o’ clock.