Sunday, December 1, 2013

4798. THE BROKEN WORLD OF HENRY WINDER

THE BROKEN WORLD 
OF HENRY WINDER
Blankets in bushels and food for the poor, the little
church parson with the shiny shoes bends down to
clean the scuff off his reflection. 'If Jesus was  a
character in a play, I know I'd be playing him, clean
body, clean mind, all that stuff, suffer the little children,
and the rest'. No one listen, since no on cares.
-
The fading sky outside keeps time with a failing
inaccuracy  -  'you do not know the hour, nor the
minute.' Salvation is a train then without a schedule
card, I'd guess. Rev. Henry sits his backside on a
chair, muttering, 'Ah! This is deliverance for sure.'
-
John Nance Garner and Emmet Till. He remembers 
them each like wilted brothers. 'I have so much to do,
 I've a sermon to preach, a motivation to spin. This
spiritual moment must begin within.' He doesn't
know it, but those were his very last words.

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