Graveyard Dirt: Two Worlds and In-between

Not the Trash, II

YESTERDAY I DISCOVERED THAT MY FATHER-IN-LAW USED AN OFFERING PLATE ON MY ALTAR AS A TRASHCAN.

I WAS VERY, VERY ANGRY.

SO ANGRY THAT I SCREAMED INTO A TOWEL LAST NIGHT FOR AN HOUR. SO ANGRY THAT I FORCED THE MAJORITY OF THE TOWEL INTO MY MOUTH SO I WAS SIMULTANEOUSLY CHOKING AND CHEWING ON IT. SO ANGRY THAT ALL I COULD DO WHILE CRYING AND SCREAMING AND CHOKING AND CHEWING WAS PRAY THAT NOTHING POPPED INTO MY MIND TO GET FINALIZED IN A SPLIT SECOND OF FURY.

(OH, BABY, DID I WANT TO SPIT.)

NORMALLY I'M NOT AS SENSATIONAL WITH THE CHOKING AND THE CHEWING AND THE REGURGITATING OF TOWELS, BUT I MADE MY DISCOVERY JUST AFTER MIDNIGHT WHICH MEANT BOTH MY IN-LAWS WERE IN BED. (SO I WASN'T ALLOWED TO BE LOUD, TO BE UPSET, TO BE ANYTHING, WHICH MEANT THE EMOTIONAL TSUNAMI WAS ABSORBED BY A SKANK ASS KITCHEN TOWEL WHILE I ROCKED BACK AND FORTH IN FRONT OF THE ALTAR.)

WHO LEAVES GARBAGE IN A PLACE OF WORSHIP? WHO LEAVES GARBAGE IN A CHURCH? OR A MOSQUE? OR A SYNAGOGUE? OR A TEMPLE? WHO DELIBERATELY LEAVES GARBAGE IN AN OBVIOUS PLACE OF PRAYER AND BELIEF? WHO DOESN'T EVEN CONSIDER THE INAPPROPRIATENESS OF THAT SORT OF ACTION?

MY FATHER-IN-LAW.