Tip Of His Tongue

"He propositioned me, with a pair of Ruby Slippers, for God's sake!" Randy ashamedly confessed, to the LDS bishop that sat behind a desk, directly below a painted picture of Jesus Christ. Although Randy never pursued this venture for a pair of slippers, he still felt the guilt associated with the thoughts of doing so.

"Well..." The reaction on the bishop's face wasn't revealing at all. His years and practice in the arts in psychology had served him well in this moment. "Can you elaborate?"

Randy didn't dare add any more to the confession. There was entirely too much to tell.

"I cannot say anymore than that. It's a long complicated and disturbing story, telling it all would be too much. Can't you just accept this confession and take it to God, or whatever, and ask for forgiveness for me? Isn't that the way this is supposed to work. Isn't that how I'll be forgiven for my horrible thoughts and desires. I'm not well, I'm sick in my mind and my soul."

There was still no visible reaction on the man's face, who sat in silence, not knowing exactly how to handle this mess of a man who sat in his office, with a horrible story on the tip of his tongue.