Chapter 11. The Pastor.

I’m not going to tell a lie, Pastor Allen caught me at perhaps my most vulnerable moment on this trip. I had just had an encounter with a guy - an unthinking moment on my end - and it had left me feeling incredibly sad. I had sought refuge at a cafe in the university town of Mars Hill in Madison County. At the next table, a group of older folk were gathered and I could hear snippets of their conversation. One was talking about something being “just shy of nasty,” and another called someone “weird,” and they laughed. It was a compliment. And then a woman let the table know that on September 5, a professor was coming to the local college from Western Carolina University to talk about the importance of the youth vote. There would be tacos, she said. 

I was aware too of a young man sitting across from me, working away, yes, but also noticing…

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