“Unearthing the Secrets: What the Ashes Reveal About Our Past and Future”
On Saturday nights, I cleaned the Baptist Church at the edge of town. I locked myself in once I entered the church. The night was long as I echoed around the vast building, dragging my vacuum cleaner between the rows of chairs and down the long hallways.
I returned home tired and sore early on Sunday morning. John was already awake and waiting for me in the living room. My portfolio was open on the table. Hundreds of tiny pieces of thick white drawing paper fell like petals over the orange shag carpet. Bruises blossomed on my arms before I could clean up what remained of my sketch.
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