It was a quarter to midnight when Jazz McKinney had stepped out of his car, locked the door, and kept his keys splayed between his fingers in case he needed to defend himself from some brute lurking in the shadows. An unusual vibe, which permeated the night air, unnerved him, but he dismissed his intuition as simple paranoia and pressed on. quick lightning flash moved across the sky, followed by a low rumble of thunder. He took a moment to scan the area and when he was satisfied that no one was around, he walked with speed toward the structure. Trepidation was his traveling partner as he moved briskly forward. During these midnight meetings, a sense of fear stimulated his desire. He walked with due speed, continuing to look around for other people, including the police, who often cruised the area on the fringes of the city. He couldn’t imagine having to explain to the police why he was lurking near the abandoned church at such a late hour. As he neared his destination, a decrepit, gnarled wooden sign pointed toward the church like old crooked fingers guiding him to the path of salvation. When Jazz was close enough, he paused for an instant and looked up at the structure. From his distance, he could read the letters above the doors: “Olive Branch Baptist Church. All are Welcome. As he moved closer to the chained fence, which protected the deserted edifice, the warning in his heart grew, but he would not yield to that feeling. An ominous presence rode the stiff night air, as if some unseen force skulked around from all sides. Partially excited and terrified, Jazz pressed deeper into the night. The fear of being caught while meeting a stranger to do whatever deeds men who meet in the dark of night did is what Jazz was counting on to multiply the force of his orgasm threefold. As he scurried across the vacant parking lot, he heard a slight rumbling behind him, which sent a cold shiver up his spine, in spite of the evening’s balmy temperature. He stopped, spun on his heels, and exhaled in relief as he saw an old soda can rolling across the lot in the gentle breeze. He resumed his march toward ecstasy. SOURCE OF THIS STORY