January fifteenth, two thousand and seventeen.

There’s this little Episcopalian church with a dark red door that rides the line between downtown and the freeway, where cities push the people they don’t want to see – folks and their dogs sit on their doorstep every night to sleep – I went to church there this morning, took the sacrament, and passed the peace with a blind man, a woman who used to work for the local news, and two companion dogs.*

*permission was asked and given.

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