Cold Coffee Warm Hands
Cold Coffee, Warm Hands The coffee at Pastor Bill's meetings was always cold. Not hot, not room temperature—cold. The kind of cold that happens when someone pours a cup and then spends twenty minutes talking about Romans chapter 8 and forgets the cup exists. I'd seen this happen a hundred times. I'd never fixed it. I was the photographer, not the caretaker. I was at the meeting by accident. I'd...
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