The Old Man Goes to Church
8
I missed him, and I wasn’t sure I would see him again. But I knew if he was still alive, he would find me somehow, or at least I hoped he would, because I didn’t know enough about him yet to write his book. He chose me to write it, but how was I supposed to do it if I knew next to nothing about him? His words seemed to cycle back to my consciousness every few days: “Your T-shirt that sa Read More