Thomas longed to live in harmony with his neighbors but none of them deserved it. Everywhere he turned they would rush off just as he was warming up to explain again what they were doing wrong. They reminded him of those rats in his yard scurrying from one neglected debris pile to another.
In the evening, feeding on beer and popcorn, Thomas set his thoughts on the day’s alleged news and contentious commentary until he could stand it no longer and let his wagging tongue off its leash. At such breaking points he would rise, pace the floor, open his mouth, and without a clear understanding of what his hardened heart was leading him to say curse the stale air of his living room. Demons loved to party there.
I was thinking of Proverbs 18:21, “Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.“