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Illusion of Progress

Sixty five years have gone by since the sweating August day in Mississippi where the air, so thick with the heat of summer in the Delta lay heavy on the boy’s chest. Chicago got hot, but nothing like that. Which is perhaps why a boy of 14 made the mistake of looking up. Or didContinue reading “Illusion of Progress”

God’s Existence at Eleven

God’s Existence at Eleven At eleven, God exists for me in storm-tried houses, with the smell of a large red door and whitewashed dusty brick. God exists on a staircase creaking, when the pine roping’s been placed and the needles swept away.       It is a shared belief that this house is haunted.   Continue reading “God’s Existence at Eleven”