My Summer in a Gospel Group We were a small Southern gospel group — more garage band than anything polished. A keyboardist who carried the lead, a guitarist, a drummer, two other singers, and me. There was an older gentleman who’d sing a featured solo. Very moving. We weren’t great. But we had something. We […]
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Before I was born you knew me. You gazed on me with love and rocked me in the arms of hope.
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A short work about two confrontations—one involving steel, the other exposure—and what remains after the doors close.
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Death: When I am gone and not alive, my exploits never told,
I hope you remember me as I was, before I grew this old.
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An essay about work, authority, and the systems that continue operating regardless of consequence. Set during the winter of 1980,
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Shortly after I arrived, the placement agency that had sent me there called. They were apologetic. They told me they could reassign me immediately if I wanted out. I told them no. I would stay and complete the job.
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The web was still new then—not vastly public, not casual. Database-driven website connections were custom-built, expensive, and rare.
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Most days, it was just the two of us. He was older than I was and knew the procedures by heart, the kind of person who respected every step because he understood what depended on it.
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The expressway wraps the city in monotony, passing warehouses and exits that no longer bother to announce themselves. That night, the rain drenched everything.
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