Category Archives: Paul Hostovsky


Paul Hostovsky

I wanted to exercise my spiritual muscle
which had practically atrophied from disuse.
So I went down to the local spiritual health club
which was having a special.

“What are the terms?” I asked the attractive
personal trainer flexing her spiritual muscle
behind the front desk. She tossed her ponytail
over her shoulder, and said: “You are not special

and I am not special.” I asked: “Is that
a two-for-one?” trying get her to smile with
zero success. She handed me my spiritual towel
and I followed her sheepishly into the shower.

“I am not a body and you are not a body,”
she said as she undressed in front of me,
grazing my body with her breasts as she
reached behind me to turn on the water

which was so cold that my spiritual muscle
went into a kind of spasm—a kind of baptism
spasm—somewhere deep inside me, impinging
on my lung. So I couldn’t breathe for what felt like

a lifetime. Then, suddenly, her heavenly face
was above me, administering a kind of
spiritual mouth-to-mouth. I started gulping
great big bucketfuls of air, which felt like

coming. It felt better than coming. It felt
like a second coming. A coming back
or a coming to. Later in the lunchroom
I asked her out. But she said no

in a spiritual nutshell.

©2012 This work is the property of the author.

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