My Leah

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“Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn’t something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you.”

I often wondered how long I could remain 

Before eventually, inside out I am swallowed by my heart’s desires.

My Lord has already graced me with the fruits of the spirit

But, the fruit of my loins remains his most precious gift.

Mark 10:9: “Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.”

Shutting my bible, confirmation from the almighty clears my doubts. I’ve tried to avoid it for years; to convince myself that my love for her was only that of a father. But when her breast began to show, and her hips began to grow, so did my love for her.  

With God’s stamp of approval, who can testify against it? Careful not to trip over members of the crowded footpath, I bend over, scooping up fallen notes from my bible. I should invest in a new one, although a last-minute flight to Vegas isn’t cheap. The streets are more chaotic than I imagined; drag queens, tourists, and party animals share the same neon-lit footpaths. The heightened sense of joy and adventure ease my nerves for the slightest moment.  

Song of Solomon 8:7: “Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot wash it away. If one were to give all the wealth of his house for love, it would be utterly scorned.”

Truly truly, I tried to let it go. Told the bishop of my desires and he said: ”Let it go; happens to the best of us.”

Giant billboards entice us to gamble, drink and buy pleasure for the small price of ‘$50 an hour’. Electricity runs through my body.

An hour,

with her.

The night club is only a few metres away and already I feel my feet trembling.





Rapidly my hands sweat, creating dark spots on the pages of my bible. Making my way to the nightclub I dump it behind an advertisement stand displaying new hotels a few kilometres away. Approaching the door, I feel immersed in the beat on the other side. 

“You better up your game in there man, some Elvis guy’s got all the ladies wound up. You’ve got extra points with that suit on though, might land you a honey or two.”

I do admit, my suit is rather dashing, but I intend on taking only one girl home.

My darling,

My Leah.

The bouncer in red trousers swings the door open, revealing a thunderstorm of flashing fluorescent lights. Stepping inside I immediately feel my heart competing with the beat of Elvis Presley’s ‘Jailhouse Rock’. Adjusting my tie, I’m swept up by sweaty bodies dancing around like lunatics. They swing around arms flying in the air shoving me to the left. The sandstorm of bodies delivers me to a bar. The bartender, a rather large man, gives me a sympathetic nod as I sit beside a young couple swallowing each other’s faces. He continues to clean glasses while glancing at the couple a few times too many. I clear my throat and immediately break his gaze.

“What will it be for you… err… James Bond?” I shake my head.

“The theme was Elvis tonight, in case you missed it.” He spun around proudly showing off his sparkly white jumpsuit.

“I was going for a more … Humbert Humbert look.”

The large bartender smirks at me, and placing down the cocktail glass, he draws near to me.

I can feel his breath melting my sweat.

So warm.

So stale.

A hint of alcohol.

‘’Tonight, one of our VIP rooms is booked for a 21st birthday celebration.”

My Leah,

Growing up so soon. 

“Now, the group will keep me busy all night. Serving only margaritas, I suspect. Nothing too hard.”

I nod along pretending to follow

“Those girls will be drinking their brains out.”

I stare at him in confusion.

He draws closer, his breath penetrating my ear.

“Let me know when you choose a girl and I can fix an extra… flavour in her drink.’’

I freeze.

Picking up his glass, he draws back. Winking at me, he goes on to serve the next customer.

My head spins.

Drug her?

I couldn’t do that, no. Not her.

I’d never bear her resentment towards me.

Her father, filth of a man, willing to drug his own daughter? How would she love me then? Who would love me then?

1 John 4: 16 And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them.

God won’t forsake me.

If she resents me,

God won’t forsake me.

How would she know? If I have her facing forward, how would she know?





These stories were written in our Factory Feedback program, which was created with, and generously supported by, the Dusseldorp Forum.