So I sat with him in his chair, and he held me. We didn't talk. He rubbed my back and we just enjoyed the closeness. After a while, I got up. It was time for me to be heading home… home to the rest of my life.
And as I rose to go, I noticed a wet spot on his pants. Something had leaked through. For a moment, seeing the dark spot near his fly made me uneasy, and I wondered...Had he become aroused? Was that wet spot there because of me sitting with him?
Surely not! He's an old man… my teacher… my friend. That spot can't be because of me. Maybe he just spilled something. How easy to explain away the evidence of what I did not want to acknowledge.

No comments:
Post a Comment