The sexual frustration was so thick it began to make my arteries feel clogged. My wife and I knew there had to be something beyond the day to day monotony that plagued us at midlife. I had considered affairs, several times. I have had opportunities as well but always, as they presented themselves, I enforced the law self-control because I'm a man of honor. But dammit, honor is a tough gig to perform forever and at all times, especially when you've never been allowed to know the thrill of dishonor.
Hedonism chased my brain over the speedways as I drove forward; bumpy railroads built the tracks along which my thoughts scattered, drunk on their own evil juices. Through mountains, my recurring dream of passion whiplashed its snake tail over the edges of cliffs; green seas awaited. So far away, but everywhere.
A horn sounded behind our grey sedan. I jerked back into the present and hot coffee dripped on my bare calf. "Shit", I muttered, tired and scalded by reality that Sunday morning. I drove through the light into the church parking lot and thought to myself, Dear God, are YOU a happy Man?
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