Never Let Them Define You

A DIVINE CONVERSATION

Three weeks as of today, fuck me, and make it proper; no more hands only. Ugh, I'm so tired of this, my heart is gonna collapse in on itself, and I'm going to DIE from boredom. My death certificate? Died laying in bed and whining; so anticlimactic. She sits up and looks down at her cast, then reaches into it a bit and scratches her foot. Her face lights up with ecstasy and she scratches faster and faster, then feels a pain under her fingers, and stops abruptly. Dammit, I knew that had to be bad for me...and it was the ONE thing that made this stupid injury worth it AT ALL.

She looks around at the room, which she's never been so tired of, and lays down again with her hands together under the side of her face. One more week, one more week, one more- She suddenly hears a knock on the door, then smiles, and says "Come in!"

"How are you feeling today?"

"Good, Ms. Hickory, but I think I may have scratched my leg too much."

"Ah! I told you not to...either way, I'm sure you didn't do any major damage." She sits down on the foot of her bed and inspects her foot. She's wearing a blue and white dress with geometric patterns and has her silver hair up in a bun with a fancy clip in. "Where's it hurt?"

She points to the spot, which has become slightly inflamed. "Right there, it doesn't hurt too bad, but it hurts a little worse now than it did at first."

"Not a great sign." She laughs dryly, then smiles tenderly, and peels back the cast a little. She reaches in her back pocket slowly and pulls out a handful of leaves. "Eucalyptus...great for little nicks and bruises, ah, I used to use it on my grandson every time he would play in the rose bush." She chuckles, then her smile fades away and she rubs the leaves on the bruise, using a lot of pressure to grind them in, and holds her leg down.

"Ow!" She twists her leg, grits her teeth, and tries to kick.

"Don't fight it," she scolds, "it's good for you." She stops and puts the leaves back in her pocket.

"Are you gonna use those again?"

"Well, yeah, of course." She chuckles. "Gonna make myself some tea."

"With my leg?"

"It's not your leg, silly, they're leaves."

"Yeah, but they touched my leg; don't you think that's a little gross?"

"Oh, you youngins are so sensitive, you think everything's gonna kill you."

"I don't think it's gonna kill you, I just think it's nasty, and I don't understand why on God's Earth you would do it."

"Clearly you don't know much about God."

"You're saying he wants me to eat leg leaves?"

She laughs and holds her sides. "No, no, honey, but you got it all wrong if you think he's even a he."

"What do you mean?"

"God doesn't have no penis, sweetheart, or boobs, or anything else." She sighs and lightly sets her hand on her non-injured leg. "You know why I stopped calling myself a Christian?"

"Why?"

"I read the Bible." She laughs again, then hacks a bit, and calms herself. "Gotta stop laughing so much, my doctor said it's bad for me, I mean, can you believe that? Laughing's bad? Back in my day, it was the best medicine, but that's beside the point. Have you ever read the Bible?"

"No, my parents weren't Christian, they were Jewish."

"So you read the Torah?"

"No, we didn't really practice any form of worship."