Literally whatever.”Suddenly.Boom. The lights were on. There stood my aunt, brother, and sister with a candle and a present. Behind them, there was ... poster, “Welcome home, Radhika.”I was shocked. My sister came to me. She gave me that present. I sat down opened it. It was a crop top and a short skirt and a letter, “Radhika, you’re a part of this beautiful family hereafter. Love you, sweety.”They asked me to wear it. I had a lot of emotions in me, “What should I do now? Should I accept it? God. Really stung. Could I take any more? On the other hand she had asked me out. It would be worth it. Surely. I nodded and said “OK.” Phoebe went over to the bed and sat down. “First though you need to show me how much you respect me” she said smirking. “How?” I asked. She lifted one of her bare feet. “Kiss it. Every toe, then all the way up to my knee. Go on.” I only waited a second, and dropped to the floor, held her foot and and took each toe in my mouth and kissed it, then made my way. I glanced around the empty nave. Rows and rows of benches, filled with missals and hymnals, the occasional miniature pencil lying forgotten on a padded seat. I moved forward down the center aisle toward the altar. As I approached the raised dais, I noticed one unusual piece of furniture sitting on the floor before the Lord’s altar. It was a kneeler, a portable one, the kind used for weddings. It was for a single person, complete with a pad to protect your knees and a sort of slanted table. OK, not exactly “made”; I opened up a can, poured it out, added water like the directions said and stuck it in the microwave. I’d lost power along with the phone, of course, but the generator out back was chugging away nicely and would keep on chugging as long as I remembered to add gas every twelve hours or so, and I had plenty of gas.Why chicken soup? Maybe there’s a little Jewish mother in every woman, and I felt a bit stupid while I was doing it, but it seemed like a good idea to have.
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