This Act of Faith - Poetry Puzzle #8

This Act of Faith

He does not hurry, for he has no destination

Losing and finding himself is just another habit

A certain untidiness [crept] [into] him 

Normally, he goes clean shaven into the world 

But the promise of a Saturday liquid with sunshine draws him away

There grows within him, however, a vague unease

He sees three young men and a girl

The girl is better looking than she should be for such companions

She is long legged and wears a white turtleneck sweater that accentuates her breasts

She casually walks over to him 

He slips her a ten-dollar bill 

He has left no message for his wife

So intent is he upon the future 

That he dangerously ignores the present

He is inexperienced 

He is nervous

He is suspicious
So he turns around, towards his home

Frank's Red Hot Sauce

I stare at Frank's Red Hot Sauce. Even though Frank wasn't there, I could feel him burning holes into my eyes. I lifted the cup up to my nose; a quick sniff was all I needed to know. The fiery aroma penetrated my nostrils. I stuck my finger in the sauce to check it out. I could almost feel the heat radiating off of it. Not to thick, not to thin, just right. I could almost hear the beast within. It growled and gave me a roar daring me to drink it. Challenge accepted. I chugged the hot sauce down. A whirlpool of lava filled my mouth. Tears filled my eyes, but I held them in. Just ten more seconds. The burning sensation was almost unbearable. But this was just the beginning. I swallowed Frank's demonic sauce. It's as if Frank planned all this out. He was saving the pain for last. Frank is as cunning as a fox. The hot sauce ignited in my throat. I held in my scream of shear pain, in fear that others would think I'm weak. But finally it was over. I let out a sigh and wiped my forehead. Damn Frank; damn his hot sauce; damn this assignment.