[SelzShoes]

[NOTE: To this point I’ve tried to make my interpretations of the characters to have SOME grounding in reality. This storyline, to my knowledge, has no basis in any reality.]

He hated Florida.

The heat. The humidity.

The flesh.

Day or night; everywhere he looked flesh. Glistening, radiating, and pulsing with life and temptations. Sweaty, musky temptation. A casual bump and a woman’s scent would trail him all day long. Destroying his concentration with her willful temptation.

The worst were the sluts who stripped down to bathing suits and then covered themselves by day. Taunting him with the knowledge of their curves.

They say they called him “Creepy” because of his look. But he knew better. They saw the way he looked at their women and could tell who had cast lots with Jezebel. They knew he could cleanse them all, but no man who chose to be with dirty women could truly be clean.

So he came to the beach every night, doing the job none of them had the courage to do. He prayed—not to be relieved of his burden—but for GOD to deliver the harlots and whores to him.

The weak flaccid men had closed other beaches where GOD’s work had been done. But no matter where he was, GOD always led the flesh to where he waited.

He knew to act quickly. In the past the whores would try to weaken him with cries and lies. Better to not give the devil a chance. When Satan’s vessels were found, the families and men would continue the lies. But it was the only way to save them—the only way to save him.

As always, GOD provided. A whore walking a path to salvation. No struggle. No trouble. Another soul to save.