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Leviticus 20:13 - If a man lies with a man as one lies with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable. They must be put to death; their blood will be on their own heads.
***
Repent and God will cure you. Everyone gets a chance.
We sit in a circle on old creaking chairs and pray, heads bowed. Boy, girl, boy, girl - never boy, boy, girl, girl. Better to avoid temptation.
"My name is Anna and I used to be a lesbian." She clutches her ex-gay husband's hand. "God cured me and He can cure you, too."
The circle gets smaller. Have some truly been cured?
One day, late at night, I have to use the bathroom. I run into Mary kissing Hannah.
Soon their chairs are empty. Everyone gets a chance, but only one.

"They're following you," she whispers in post-coital languor.
"How?" I kiss her. With her, information exchange is magnificent.
She giggles as if I had said something sweet. "Cameras on the window." I know better than to let my gaze waft towards it. "And a chip in your anus," she grins.
I blush, remembering her fingers…
"Thanks," I huff. "We strike on Thursday at three."
Now she has all the information - no reason to linger in the intimacy to fool surveilance.
It hurts to see her get up instantly. She doesn't know information is just part of the deal for me.

Bonus č. 6, nahrazuji si téma Krev z 17.04.
It was love at first sight. The blue eyes with a speck of green, the hair as white and smooth as silk, the flawless skin. He was the perfect human.
Except he wasn't. I never would have learned his secret if it hadn't been for the accident.
I had lost a critical amount of blood. He wanted to help. But when they opened his vein, there was no blood. Instead, a clear liquid oozed out…
For that imperfect speck of green, he had been banished. His kin were built for the rich. I was in love with an AI courtesan.

The customers milled past, observing the ware with critical eyes, whispering amongst themselves. The regulars were pointing out subtle details - qualities and blemishes invisible to an untrained eye.
"What's that brown speck?" A lady in a red top-hat whispered to her bespectacled companion.
"I don't think it's trouble," the man responded, peering closer.
I held my breath, quivering as he poked at the birthmark below my clavicle with a thick finger. I kept quiet, but silently I prayed the mark would put him off; he was disgusting.
"This is quality material," he concluded, lustfully eyeing my youthful curves. "I'll buy."

"Line up!" The instructor is never gentle. We rush to form a line, some thirty boys dressed in white, all blond, blue-eyed.
"Today I'm gonna select one of you for special service!" We quiver. Those who go to serve rarely return.
When he calls my name, only the fear of him keeps me from crying.
They escort me to a manor. I have been purchased to please, the mistress informs me, and though her hands and lips are soft, I almost miss the instructor's harshness. That, I could understand. The things the lady does to me, I fail to grasp.

When China does it, we condemn, cry outrage… and quiver, because rumor has it that they're breeding supersoldiers.
When the West does it, it is a feat of science, the way to eradicate disease and improve the human race. Babies on demand become the hit of the day.
Soon genes is what counts when you want to get into college, score a job, get a loan…People start keeping wealth in the family. Words like incest don't apply when it happens in vitro.
And here we are, on the brink of extinction. Endless copy-paste is not how you create strength.

Řekla bych, že je drabble nevhodná pro osoby mladší 12ti let.
When I met Johnny Weir, I almost got fooled by the make-up, the delicate features, the high-heels. He could pass for a woman. Maybe that's why it was easier for my brain - I could almost imagine kissing him without feeling guilty.
When I did kiss him, there was no guilt, just desire. He felt nothing like a girl… His seemingly smooth face scratched with tiny stubs, his leg-hair tickled. His hips were firm and narrow - fucking him without our hipbones clashing took some practice.
Johnny was a man - and the sex was better than anything I had ever experienced before.

Doháním téma z 13.04. - Gloria.
Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto. Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. Amen.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning is now, and will be forever. Amen.
***
"Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto. Sicut erat in principio..."
The floor is hard under his knees as he repeats the prayer, the beads of his rosary flying between his fingers.
As it was in the beginning is now, and will be forever...
Except nothing is the same now that Brother Jeremiah is gone. You're the one the priest calls into his chambers after dark. No one soothes you, or shields you from those hands, that mouth, the other parts ought not be seen. Now there are only tears, pain, hatred… Now you know why Jeremiah didn't want 'forever'.

Touching her drew blissful moans; you had worn silks and satins, but the most exquisite materials couldn't compare to her skin. The fragrance of her hair dizzied you; no perfume could ever be sweeter. Her lips - oh, her lips! Red and plump like sun-ripened cherries, their kisses made you believe in god - how else could such perfections be created?
Red was what she wore when she conducted rituals as heinous as she was lovely. For eternal beauty, she drank blood of the innocent. In all her luminescence, her heart was as black as the deepest night. My heart... was hers.

The butt of my car was still in the mist, but I could already see what lie ahead. It made me tear up - partly with emotion, partly because it was so bright. Despite the protests of my engine, I pushed onward and up, to the top of the mountain.
I had never seen anything as magnificent. Above me the sky stretched out, a brilliant cerulean blue, broken only by other snow-capped peaks. Below me hung the gray haze of smog and industrial fumes that had been my sky since my birth. It was now my ground. Had I found heaven?

White. That is all I can see as far as my eye can reach, not even the odd black line of a tree to break the monotony. The scenery hasn't changed in days. I have no sense of direction, or even an approximate idea of how far I have come. One day the wind blows into my face, the next day it's in my back. I walk until my eyelashes gleam with icy crystals, my lips turn a pale shade of ochre, until I barely remember the reason for this journey.
My mother told me what her mother had told her. At the end of the ice, there is water. At the end of the winter, there is spring. I'm not sure what spring is; my people haven't seen it for generations. But I walk, because there has to be an end - and after the end, a beginning. I walk because the only other option is death.
Numb. I don't feel, don't see. My legs keep moving automatically. The creak of breaking ice is sudden, but before I can process the sound, I'm dropping. The water I plunge into is icy, and I can't swim, but it is water… Spring?

My father had called it a Gift when he injected my mother's egg with something that wasn't regular sperm. I prefer the word "curse".
My body is like memory foam. Whatever you do to it, it returns to its original state and becomes immune.
My father started testing when I was four. By age seven, my skin was impervious to abrasions, cuts, burns. I was immune to angina, meningitis, typhus. By age nine, acid wouldn't hurt my throat, axes couldn't break my bones.
When I killed my father at age thirteen, I didn't feel remorse. Hate had made me immune.

Když jsem přemýšlela nad tímto tématem, vzpomněla jsem si na povídku, kterou jsem začala psát (asi na 15 stran) a nedopsala před pár lety... Tohle je její velmi zkrácená variace.

Název drabble je čínskou verzí rčení "like father like son" aneb "jablko nepadá daleko od stromu".
I never wanted to be like Father. I moved halfway across the world, made a living delivering pizza. I was poor - not swathed in luxury. Gay - not married to a daughter from another yakuza clan. I was ME. Only the katana on my wall reminded me of my family.
I met Josh on a delivery. He was rich, spoilt… and I was madly in love. He promised to come out, be mine.
At his wedding, I wasn't the boy delivering pizza and sex, two for one. I was my father's son as the katana dripped blood on the church floor.

Nahrazuji si v bonusu č. 2 téma číslo 7, Zprava dobrý.
Zprava dobrý, zahlaholí chlápek v autě, který zastavilo na křižovatce. Zleva ale příjíždějí auta, takže čekají. Řidič má na sobě propocený nátělník - je totiž vedro a stará škodovka si o klimatizaci může nechat jen zdát.
Přecházím s přítelem přes přechod.
Hele, vidíš ty dvě buzny?! ozve se ze škodovky a najednou je jedno, že zprava nic nejede a zleva taky ne - čumí na nás oba dva, zatímco my se je snažíme ignorovat.
No to je hnus, slyším ještě. Škodovka se rozjíždí.
Zprava sice dobrý - ovšem jak pro koho. Pro nás teplouše ten náš do prava tíhnoucí národ moc dobrej nebude…

She walked. She ran. She drove, rode, sailed and flew. Cars, trains, ships, planes, camels, elephants - anything that propelled her forward.
Some thought she was crazy. Others thought she was brave and followed her blog with enthusiasm and envy.
Deserts threatened to choke her with sand, rainforests nearly drowned her with masses of water, mountains froze her to the bone.
To the end of the world she went. But you always followed. And when, a year later, she returned and found your favorite sweater still in her closet, it was as if she had never moved - while you had left.

Everyone loved camp at first. It was clean and spacious. We got food, tastier than we had ever had. After dinner, a few kids received red candies.
I was envious. Then I realized that those with candies were missing the following day. Soon I saw guardians force candy into screaming mouths.
Tomi and I were the last… He got the candy. I held him until he fell asleep and promised to rejoin him soon. By morning he was gone.
When the regime fell, I was freed. I felt cheated. I never got my candy. I would never see Tomi again.

Sirius. Dumbledore. Hedwig. Dobby. Fred. Remus. All dead.
Harry knew he had to stop Voldemort to prevent more deaths. So he did - and he died to destroy Voldemort completely.
But the killing continued as the remaining Death Eathers rampaged through the country.
Ginny. Harry mourned… and secretly thanked Merlin it hadn't been her brother.
Ron's death pushed Harry over the edge. A Timeturner was easily obtained and Harry went raging against time and destiny, back to when Voldemort was just Tom Riddle, a dirty orphan.
No one cried - not because a tyran had been killed, but because no one cared.

We had been acquaintances.
Accidental encounters led to regular meetings.
Over coffee, we explored each other’s eyes and hearts, until friendship became more and passion burned us up.
Time made us lovers, then partners, then married, and finally parents.
I no longer remember the way your hair smelled, or the way your lips curled in a smile as you combed our daughters' hair.
Now we are "clients", you and your lawyers, me and mine, the kids in between like milestones. As far from you as they are from me; such a sad sight since we can't seem to meet halfway.

Obvykle nebylo těžké Harryho Pottera najít. Nejoblíbenější kouzelnickou celebritu buď sledoval Denní Věštec, anebo zástup obdivovatelů. Když se Harry nepohyboval na veřejnosti, byl buď doma s rodinou nebo v práci na Ministerstvu.
Občas ovšem Harry zmizel, jako by se do země propadl - ani Věštec, ani jeho přátelé, ba ani Ginny nevěděla, kde je. Lokalizační kouzla ani aplikace na mobilním telefonu, který Harrymu daroval Artur, nefungovaly.
Jen jedno místo bylo chráněno magií dost silnou a černou na to, aby to vysvětlovalo takové záhadné zmizení. Co Harry Potter dělal v Malfoyově sídle, kde momentálně žil jen Draco, však bylo záhadou ještě větší…

They had not been fast enough this time. It had been like always, a handfull of pills that she was only supposed to take one of. Someone had always found her and called 911.
Tears streamed down her face as she dispensed pills into her palm: one, two five, eighteen, too many to count…
It hurt, the sound of the closing door as Maria left… and with her the only thing she believed in.
It hurt, in and out and ah-ah-oh, her cheeks salty as her tiny fists struck her father's chest in vain. That's where it began, the end.