Sin: A Micro-Story

 In a church the man waits for the priest. It is time for Confession. “Father forgive me for I have sinned. It has been long since my last confession.” The priest listens and tells the man to go on. “Well, it all started when I met her in the grocery store. She was in need of someone tall enough to reach to top shelf. I just happened to be the lucky one to assist her, I suppose.” The man pauses. The priest encourages him to go on. “One thing led to another and we decided to have drinks together. I’m a married man, but that didn’t stop me.” “Go on,” says the priest. “After drinks, we went to her place, and again one thing led to another.” “Yes,” says the priest. “Well, it isn’t hard to figure out the rest.” “Have you told your wife,” asks the priest. “No,” is the simple answer. “Do you think you should,” asks the priest. “I don’t know. I go back and forth on that. I don’t want to hurt her. And our marriage could suffer if I said anything.” “That’s a decision you must make. It will be hard to keep that secret,” says the priest. The priest then gives the man a penance to perform. A series of prayers he had to say.

Later that evening, at home, the man sits down at the dinner table. His wife is preparing dinner in the kitchen. “Your favorite. Stir fry with tofu tonight.’” she says. The man sits in silence. His phone is on the table, opened to a random news site. It is a small house, with a small kitchen. It being summer, the heat is palpable. The dinning room is small, too. The man stares at his phone. If only those things hadn’t happened, he thinks. If only he had been more circumspect. If only....but if only isn’t good enough. He must deal with his guilt. The man feels shame at what he has done.

The next morning, the man wakes up in a cold sweat. “Are you feeling alright,” asks his wife. “Why do you ask?” “You are sweating profusely.” “Oh, it’s nothing. Really.” But inside the man struggles with his conscience. Should he just tell her? It is getting harder and harder to keep this secret. Or, overtime, will it fade into the background, and not seem to bother him so much.

The man and his wife sit at the breakfast table. “You haven’t touched your egg,” says the wife. “I must not be hungry,” he replies. “You got home rather late,” she says. After a pause, he answers, “it took longer at the grocery store.” Does she suspect something. His conscience again makes him feel guilt. “Well, have a nice day at work.”

At work, in the office, the man’s conscience gets the better of him. He tells the story to a close friend and confidant. “So, you see what a pickle I’m in.” “Did you tell your wife?” “No. I don’t know where to begin. And I don’t know what that would do to our marriage.” “Well, it can’t be good, but if your conscience is bothering you this much....” “Are you going to see her again?” “Of course, not.”

In the evening, at home, the man again sits at the dinner table. “Honey, I’ve got something to tell you.” The man recounts the story. When he has finished, his wife says, “I want a divorce.”