Words are weak. They are pale shadows of my thoughts and do not carry the full meaning. We must move quickly to another way. That is why we will comme...ce with the sweat lodge ceremony. It is time. Let us begin."Graydon sat cross-legged, head tilted back, unmoving, his eyes closed, lips apart, his hands laying palm upward on his knees. His eyes moved under his closed lids and his lips pursed as if forming words. His body glistened with beads and rivulets of sweat in the hot moist air of the. He was a sweet 57 with hair short enough that it stood up with sweat after he ran his hands through it. He still wore his black and red spandex uniform, the fabric soaked and even more form-fitting than usual. I could see, at least, that he took his cup out after practice, the outline of his boy toys just a size-able lump protruding in the front. As he continued up the walk, his gym bag slung over his shoulder obscured the firm butt I hoped Id get a glimpse of. He entered his house and my. More

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