Quarter Nights & Greyhound Dreams - 1986
1986 was a year of rust - and prayer. I worked two jobs, three jobs, six days, seven if the Lord looked the other way. Didn’t rest, didn’t dream, just kept on like a broke-down Buick with a cough in its soul. That old '63 LeSabre - Blue as my mood, fading like hope - her grandma gave it, God bless her - and we rode it on fumes, on faith, on three dollars of gas at a time. Three bucks. You hear me? That’s a couple gallons and some change, back when gas still showed mercy. We rolled slow, so the needle stayed up, and the money didn’t run out…
The Other Side of the Door - 1984
A Two-Piece Manuscript: The Door & the Silence Some doors remain closed until your faith knocks hard enough to hear your own heart . - Oliver B. Greene I. The Door That Kept Me Going I was twenty-one. Broke. Wearing yesterday’s uniform and tomorrow’s fear. College slipped away. My son didn’t. He needed me - so I drove. Thin mornings, Richmond-bound, Chamberlain to the old highway, the Ambassador breathing smoke, gauge flirting with E like it wanted to leave me behind. Sometimes I asked out loud if God even rode with me - if anyone did. The…
