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Kiruv

By on October 29, 2012
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Kiruv 3

Then, one day it happened: Shmuley had decided to turn the community’s monthly nude immersions in the moonlit river, into mikvah night. He had explained how a mikvah was a source of living water meant to rejuvenate the spirit; they had discussed how the High Priest would immerse himself in the mikvah on Yom Kippur, and explored the connection between water and atonement. They were ready. Al’s niece, Erica, was visiting for the weekend; it was fall break at the small liberal arts college she attended a few miles away. Soon the colony would be closing for the winter and Shmuley wanted to make sure they got in an immersion before that happened.

Esther had refused to have anything to do with the matter: To her, mikvah was a holy ritual, the magical bath that allowed her to touch her husband, and she could not stand to see it defiled by a bunch of ex-hippies who didn’t know how to cover their phalluses. So as Shmuley led his flock to the river, she was baking rugelach. As the smell of cinnamon wafted through her nostrils, she felt a tingle run up her thighs. She rubbed her left foot against the back of her right leg. She took her flour-dusted fingers and traced the outline of her breasts. She felt a sudden lifting, a something rising within her like the yeast in her challahs, a desire to braid herself through her husband’s body like a strand of dough.

As she walked through her door and on to the dirt road, she was aware of the breeze on the bottom of her feet as they rose a little out of her flip-flops with each step. She could feel the moon watching her, but she was not ashamed: For too long, she had lain in the shadows, underneath her husband’s body. Tonight she was going to be on top – she had swallowed his semen last night, and it had tasted worse than the time she accidentally filled her rugelach with paprika. Let the moon judge her! The moon had never tasted raisin-paprika rugelach, nor had it felt a man’s flesh between its thighs. The moon didn’t have thighs – well, she had thighs, and she was going to use them!

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Shayna is a native Manhattanite whose interests include Torah, human rights, and poetry. An avid procrastinator, Shayna spends most of her time on Facebook, or watching any game involving the Brazilian soccer team. Brasil para Mundial 2014!
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