Thanks to the new subscriber
, whose amazing podcast—The Underview—I mentioned last week. Mike is a dear friend. I’ll be highlighting his work in the days to come. In the meantime, follow his podcast (especially if you enjoy Stegneresque stories about place, particularly the Ozarks). As a bonus, I’ve opened last week’s post, “Old Man Wayne and the Price of Progress,” to non-subscribers. Enjoy.If you are a non-subscriber, consider joining Mike and others who make this work possible.
As always, no AI was used in the writing or images contained in this piece.
Ash Wednesday, 2024
Last night, I made my way to the front of the church where a woman in red stood with a small container of gray ash. I see her, an upperclassman from my high-school years, and I remember the way she danced—long, fluid, the grace of eighteen. She is in her late forties now, and she wears the years with dignity. She does not remember me, a lowerclassman, an ambiguous character, an extra in the story of her high school years.
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