The Christian
Coffee and doughnuts. I remember the vast sanctuary with its naked wooden pews — maroon cushions, hard backs — lined on either side with stained glass windows — red, green, and yellow — and the vast cross taking up the wall behind the podium. Rock wall, scraggly rock. How you’d have to come out the door and go down a flight of stairs and along a wide, cold, marble-floored hallway to the men’s room through a door that seemed much too small, and how it was even colder in there, smelled like cotton candy from the puck-shaped pink deodorizers at...
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