The Missionary


  “Have I finally met my match?” asked the missionary unto himself. The brothel stood before him, barely containing the boisterous mirth it housed between its four walls. Indeed, it seemed to overflow into the street, mistresses of seduction leering from within.

  He couldn’t deny the raw lure the place emitted, the wanton depravity that beckoned him forward. Yet it was filled to bursting with the soiled and unclean. It was certainly no place for the xenophobic.

  “My teachings will find no audience here,” sighed he, “I shall instead return and add this den of debauchery to my chronicles of temptation.”


~ by Joseph Blame on January 2, 2011.

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