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"The Bus Terminal" by decal (decal02@hotmail.com)

D A N

The revival meeting is hitting a fever-pitch. I'm surrounded by hot, sweaty people shouting "Hallelujah" and "Praise the Lord" over and over again. Some begin sobbing in ecstatic joy. I am anxious and uncertain, wondering why I am here. Barbara is suddenly in front of me, her flimsy, white dress soaked in sweat and clinging to her mature, athletic body. The top of her dress is open showing her cleavage ... she isn't wearing a bra ... her prominent, dark nipples show through the thin cotton.

"Praise the Lord, Danny, praise the Lord!" she cries out.

"Praise the Lord," I answer, trying to sound enthusiastic.

She throws her arms around me and pulls me up close. My arms are held tightly at my sides. My face is buried against her chest just above her breasts. Why am I so short? I wonder. One of her hands is playing with my hair, the other rubbing up and down my back and butt.

"Praise the Lord, my beautiful little boy," she whispers down to me.

...

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